Christmas, again

Thursday, I sat down on

The Porch

Where I meet up with real guys,

Men who've lost all of 

What they once had;  for a

Few that meant a lot, for 

Most there never was much to lose.

I'm learning the

Street

Is all about loss--

Lost families,

Lost children,

Lost health,

Lost hope,

Dreams shot to hell and back over

Stupid stuff and some tragedies.

Thursday, I sat down on 

The Porch,

Billy's porch,

Where I met up with real guys, we drank

Coffee together; and

I expect we lied about our lives;

Not a few made 

Fun of money and efforts to help. 

Some, 

Covered in pre-Christmas 

Depression could 

Hardly talk without a 

Tear trickling down, deep down in the

Voice.

Merry 

Christmas, again,

Out here.