Christmas Eve

Scarred face


Like the snow on the ground

Woolen scarf

The only gift ever received

Given by a strange man

In a car

As red as blood
Calloused hands

Reach out

For hope



But empty faith
The hands of Death


Slink through the icy air



Draining fast

The Man's face

Is more pale

Scarred Sad
The cars pass

Not noticing

The fingers

Grasping and holding fast

Like the fog

That envelopes the sky

Made of steel
All hope is lost

His heart is frozen

The blood flow halted

And glazed with ice

Death has won
He lies like a stone

The scarf dotted with blood

From the Man's bleeding heart
A man walking home from work

To meet his family

Sees the Man

And steps over him

Continuing on his way
No one stops

His discolored,

Bony face

Lying alone

The pavement swallows him