Jingle Bells.
Where is it now?
The goodwill, the cheer, the spirit?
Last year I saw a loving family intertwined around a solid wooden table
their hearts and stomachs filled with the best of life.

This year I saw starving miserable creatures slurping water with bits of vegetables floating in it
in a bright red plastic bowl
I saw a family where the love of the parents and the want of the children met in tears and grief and frustration
The little ones recieving not a shiny box wrapped in paper
But a singular little token wrapped in love
Drenched in the shame of the parents that they could not provide more.

I saw a family putting on a brave face, pretending things were well
Empty people wrapped in their Christmas clothes, but an empty box inside
They were eating. They had plenty, of the best, the food was good. A happiness was there.
The tree was burried in gifts, wrapped in bright red paper, and inside expensive plastic tokens.
The gifts were just gifts though, objects which they gave and got.
The food was just food to be eaten and to enjoy,
The clothes were smart and suave and beautiful, it made the people inside them feel good and special
Nothing else told them this.

I saw a bitter old woman sitting alone by an electric fireplace
In a 1930s semi south of London, burnt lungs were her Christmas present.
As the sooty dark smoke drowned her veins and choked her heart
It no longer mattered, her heart had been ripped out already
The debris scattered across her dark puke green and brown tattered carpet
But why should she care anymore? Nobody else did.

Hence we continue, to the lost vagabond in the middle class home
with everything to live for and everything provided.
He has a love he has food he has presents he has friends
But still walks the streets alone cold and starving in his head.
He still has the pain of the poor working family who can provide nothing but love.
He still has the emptiness of those that have everything but have nothing that is real.
He still has the stubborn lonliness of the woman who could get up and
leave and start again, but prefers to burn herself from inside.

But most importantly, he has the hope of a New Year, just days away.