Christmas

Christmas

She's sitting quietly all alone, in that dark cold Childrens home
Can only be but six or seven, believes in fairies, God and Heaven
In her hands a Teddy Bear, now worn and torn with all that wear
That Teddy means the world to 'she', no Mum or Dad like you and me

Outside a dark and dismal dawn, on this day our Lord was born
Her face pressed firmly to the glass, hoping that she won't be last
That Santa in his sack will bring, she wants no toys, just wants one thing
A Mum and Dad she badly needs, that warmth and Love, but no one heeds
She turns a teardrop in her eye, she whispers 'God, please let me die'
But in the corner, sack is empty, not like ours, filled with plenty
She prayed so hard but once again, Christmas day just left her pain

He stumbles, bottle in his hand, from the shadows of our land
Another soul that no ones 'fond', 'cause he's a tramp, a Vagabond
Mum walked out when he was three, and left him to his Dads mercy
Who wanted him kept out of sight, now his son walks streets at night
Wrapping cardboard all around, whilst you and I in beds sleep sound
He sighs and hopes day 'be his last', then mind will rest and have no past

Young lover now all on his own, she left his Heart without 'a home'
She told him she would never leave, but now warm Heart and mind just grieve
And in his moments of despair, when he turns 'round and she's not there
A tear drop falls from 'smitten eye', a broken Heart heaves 'nother sigh
A life now lost its goal, direction, yearns for her to give affection
Every day a cross to bear, reminding him that she's not there

And as I write these words I weep, not for me will there be sleep
I see that child now growing old, she's got no feelings, so, so cold
All her crying was so absurd, 'they' walked away, 'they' never heard
Years of no one being there, has left this child, inside 'no care'
A 'damaged' child now she will be, will live her life in misery

I see a tramp, was so alone, who never, ever, had a home
He has no more, no need to hide, 'cause Christmas Eve, that night he died
In the gutter there he lay, whilst you and I rejoiced 'Lords day'

I see young lover sitting there, on his face an ice cold stare
Gun now pointing to his brain, calls her name, once more, again
Then just one instant lost in time, she at last, is free, his mind..

I think these folks of present, past, who wish their moments were their last
Who daily pray to him above, pleading, crying out for Love
What kind of people can we be, to watch them suffer needlessly
After all, we're all the same, just all each have a different name

So Christmas Day when joy fills 'mind, and we all have a 'real good time'
Lots of presents, lots of love, lots of joy from Him, above
Just think of these lost Souls who roam, whose Hearts will never 'find a Home'

Look upwards into Gods blue sky, 'but for the Grace of God, go I ......'

Peter Edwards