A HOMELESS CHRISTMAS

’Twas the night before Christmas and I sat alone

In my usual doorway that I called my own.

The people rushed past me, laden with shopping,

They saw what I was but passed without stopping.

Some kids laughing brightly skipped past full of joy

And made me remember when I was a boy.

Carols were playing, and we sang round a tree:

Daddy and mummy, and my sister and me.

Often I’ve wondered how it all came unstuck —

’twas sometimes bad choices, and sometimes bad luck.

But who can I blame while the world is so gay,

’cause tomorrow will be just one more lost day.

                                                   James Aitchison

A great reminder to give to someone this Christmas Eve who has fallen on hard times.