I wake up to the city bathed in white,
It’s a white Christmas for me- I think
Joyous carols bursting forth
(And yet a thought sneaks in-
What of the old ladies? The grandfathers?
The little matchstick girl burned her matches to the bone
For a fog covered her city on a white Christmas too)
My heart bled. It bled red. It bled in tears.
(But my head said- well, what can you do?
You have done everything in your power
It’s not wrong to romanticize your life)
And so, I wrote a poem.
Hoping it turns into a prayer
For the little children struggling on the streets,
For the parents with no roofs to give their babies
For the grandparents spreading smiles and cheer to their family
Even while hiding empty bellies.
To the little matchstick girl, thanks for the lesson, I say,
To those who taught me to love my memories, thanks for the joy, I say,
And with my words, I hope to spread some cheer
When the cold burns through bones
My hot cocoa keeps me warm, a smile on my face,
And I hope, I can offer a blanket to someone in solidarity.
(the fog was really pretty, but the auto ride to the city?
Burnt my fingers right off my body)
Author‘s Note: Hope the poem moved you and gave you catharsis the way it did for me. And while I couldn’t find a trusted charity working in this area- I recently got scammed by a fake charity so I am being extra vigilant– if you can donate a blanket or something to someone, that would be great. And if you can’t that’s still fine.
P.S.- If you wish to support this blog, you can review and share my work. To read more of my poetry, head to Muses_Saga.
Creators Recommendation for the Day: ReLauren
Updated: 07/01/2024
