Christmas on Mercy Street

Christmas comes but once a year, we rush, we spend, we buy
Ignoring the hands reaching up from the pavements
Of the homeless, forgotten ones who cry.

We try not to see them, embarrassed by their plight
It’s not familiar to us, and feels an unpleasant sight.
But we’re alright, we’ll have a bed tonight, while they
May sleep beneath the very cardboard that held the gifts we carry home.

Spare a thought, spare a nice thought, it could be you, or me
You never hear the tide change, it just sweeps it all away
And being not as young any more, it’s hard to find your way
You find yourself on Mercy Street, where even a pair of boots
Become a treasured possession, and you’ll fight to keep them.

But two things above all others are the most prized possessions of all
Pride and Dignity, taken for granted in the world of have
But upon entering Mercy Street, they fly away never to be regained
And they leave the heart forever pained.


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