They don't see it in any different way
it's for the like of them another day
another day to sun in the chill
another day without a square meal.

Then when comes the unfriendly night
the cold bares fangs hounds for a bite
a roofed mirage underneath warmth born
to live it out till comes another morn.

If you break your run in reflective pause
and feel inside a stir to act a Santa Claus
weigh yourself high in the scale of spirit
enlarge your hands so they hold enough gift.

Enough may not seem for the kind of your ilk
but enough for them a crumb a saucer of milk
look into their eyes the night is no more cool
you have warmed it made their hearts thankful.