Homeless

Cold winter chill seeps to the bone,
 A soul lost no place to call home.
 Possessions packed in a squeaky cart,
 Bitterness for the homeless heart
 
Fingertips bitten from frosty morn
 Dirty clothes raggedly torn
 Paper stuffed in baptized shoes,
 A quick fix from all the sad news
 
Curious looks, squeakin' on by,
 No tears from a stranger’s eye
 Shelters full to the brink,
 Thirstin' for that last drink
 
Eyes of the young fill the hall,
 Santa won't make his curtain call
 Toys wasted when you ain't a tree,
 Christmas dinner Chef àla Boyardee.
 
Judgment is seen from others it seems
 Shatterin' the last of illusive dreams
 Christmas all wrapped with pristine bow
 Rattlin' change in a cup to show
 
So Santa is dressed in festive red,
 While contemplatin' next to rest a head
 Turkey awaits the carvin' knife,
 Survivin' the homeless life.