Caught up in the holiday tangle of boxes, ribbons, and bows, in the hustle of the Christmas season seems few people want to know about the tear-stained lady on the balcony who's taking a final leap, or the homeless man in the tattered coat searching for a place to sleep. While the smells of over-indulgence wafts from houses everywhere, a hungry child cries inside her ramshackle home on the floor so cold and bare. As the cancer-riddled father lay dying he cries for his children at home, knowing she will be the one to raise them by herself and God's help alone. As the firelight softly flickers to the strains of a holiday song, in the home of the beautiful Christmas seems nothing in the world is wrong. Outside the snow is falling accumulating on window sills, while the old man shivers in his over-sized coat to stave off the bitter chill. All the long night the child's hunger unanswered, there on the floor she slept, and the dying cancer man, with his wife holding hands, passed away as his lady wept. Along the avenue the smartly dressed folks sang of Christmas joy and cheer while the homeless man turned, shivered, and prayed that daylight would soon been near. Follow: FB, Instagram, Twitter: WVPoetrygirl
Poetry
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I think the juxtapostion that you weave throughout the poem- with the standard holly jolly Christmas that we are so familiar with to the poverty and inequality in our society that doesn’t just stop during Christmas season is so important. Thanks for articulating that disparity in such a beautiful way.
Thank you, Anna. The sad part of this poem is that the dying cancer man is true….my dad. Holidays have always been hard because of that. He died of colon cancer when I was 17.