Being alone at Christmas

A Christmas hat

a park bench

hunched over with the cold

the frost plays havoc with one’s feet

no matter now how old

the clothes when wet are uncomfortable

they get frozen on you quick

and with no one around to comfort you

its not long before you are sick

what you miss is a friendly voice

and maybe a loving smile

and a chair beside a roaring fire

if only for a while

perhaps the smell of chestnuts

bringing back those days

when you had a home

and a family too

now on your mind that plays

the Christmas Tree

decked out and looking

beautiful and joy

emanating around the room

when you were just a boy

now your parents have passed away

and you are all alone

the bank has thrown you on the scrap heap

you work your fingers to the bone

but they were a bunch of bastards

clearly they had no soul

they sold you the wrong insurance

and the flat you had they stole

and so its Christmas Day and you

having nothing left but pain

no one seems to love a man

who sleeps rough in the rain