T’was the night before Christmas

And all through the streets

Fires were burning

The homes of elites

Brimstone and ashes

And charred skulls aplenty

The smell of fresh flesh

At only 9:20

The taste of sweet cookies

Mingled with smoke

Had even the elders

Starting to choke

And yet protests lingered

With cocktails through glasses

Razor wire on streets

Causing car crashes

While clouds gathered above

Drenching rooftops with blood

And footfalls of troops

Were heard squishing through mud

The innocent children

Stared on in awe

Without any context

For the horrors they saw

And all through the city

Not a present was given

Because at the end

Nobody was livin’

Sometimes my words

Get lodged in my throat

Like crushed glass that carves

Itself a home then scatters itself on

Pavement in puzzles dotted with

Inconsistency and incongruous edges

Dripping in stained intentions

Smudged beyond recognition.

Coughing loudly,

I cover my mouth in shame

And try to hide

From the thoughts etched on your face.