This is Christmas
my friends,
and you are full
of joy and too
much drink.
But a child is dying
on the street,
a child is dying, my friends;
a child is sold on the streets,
grabbed with hands
soiled by greed.
Can you really stomach
your Christmas lunch;
I guess you can,
if you turn the other way,
if you turn the other cheek.
If you turn and say
that it’s just another day
of living in this world of
contradictions,
in this wonderland,
where children are
stricken with poverty,
hunger and disease,
or given a gun,
or used for fun.
A child is dying on the street,
but I have nothing to say,
and there is no will
and there is no way,
across the borders that divide
this lonely child
living on the street
from us,
from all of us here.
23/12/2016