By Maitri R.
As he walks down the road, his icy heart,
Freezes the raindrops, and they fall apart
As snowflakes on the pavement,
He didn't return the sorrow it had lent.
He musters all his warmth to summon
A firefly, it’ll light up my path, he reckoned.
Held it in his palm, then set it free,
It guided him to all that he couldn't feel.
Through the windows of a mansion, he peered,
They'd won the lottery, and so they cheered.
Storms swirling within their hearts he couldn’t see,
They'd lost their merchandise to the ocean’s feet.
Oh, how he wished to have all they did,
For it was all sunshine on the streets of the rich.
But alas, never meant to be in the story,
Never to feel misery in the nobility’s glory.
He moved ahead, to find a quaint cottage,
The people inside had the best time with porridge.
Sufferings within their hearts, he couldn't see,
They saved up their best for Christmas Eve.
Oh, how he wished to be happy in times of grief,
For they had dirty daisies, cleansed by belief.
But alas, never meant to be at peace,
He had all the joy, only for it to cease.
He kept walking, he didn't know why,
He had no shoulder on which he could cry.
As he stopped by his house he remembered,
They had left him there, and he never returned.
He looked in, to find them reminiscent,
About the past Christmases he'd never spent.
Sorrow within their hearts, he couldn't see,
They talked about the times he'd been with glee.
Oh, how he wished for love to find,
For it was beautiful on the side of the kind.
But alas, never meant to have people who cared,
Only to roam aimless, on the streets of despair.