A street child’s Christmas

Beggar boy on Christmas eve
Beggar boy on Christmas eve

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I woke up in the darkest dawn
And found it was not Christmas.
The boxes were all gaily torn
And colors hid in darkness.

The virgin mothers of my time
Have fought to break enigmas
Of children wrapped in soot and grime
Left lost among the homeless.

But barefoot prophets echo cries,
No hunger shall be endless.
The people glance at eastern skies
And rejoice at sparkling lightness.

I woke up in the darkest dawn
And knew it was not Christmas.
We wake each other now instead
With street songs. Hark! they cheer us.

 

A virgin mother of Timog Avenue
A virgin mother of Timog Avenue

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25 December 2013, 12:56 am;
4th stanza added 29 December 2013