by Nick Gisburne
The snow on Christmas Eve was deep and damp
And lo, there came a knocking at the door
’Twas there I saw a ragged, wretched tramp
Who sang sweet songs of Christmas cheer, and more
He touched my heart and gave my soul a shake
That one so poor as he could bring such joy
I bade him share a meal, a hearty steak
And learned of life when he was just a boy
He smiled and settled deep into the chair
His glass now drained, he drifted into sleep
I carried him outside to take the air
And sliced a knife across his neckline, deep
He touched us all, as children, long ago
And died at Christmas, bleeding in the snow
