Candies and cakes.

Eggnog too.

Turkey, ham, and stuffing.

Pumpkin pie.

Gingerbread and chocolate fudge.

 

Family and friends.

Around a warm fire.

Dancing flames.

And sizzling cedar logs.

Stockings hanging from above.

 

Family dog.

Sleeping at their feet.

Cookies and milk.

Kids laugh and squeal.

Silent wishes and hopeful dreams.

 

Home.

How I long to be there.

 

Pepper spray and handcuffs.

And puking, smelly drunks.

Radios and TASERS.

Spouses, battered and bruised.

Black eyes and broken bones.

 

Tiny tots and tears.

And drug dealers and thieves.

Sad, pitiful kids.

No toys.

No place to sleep.

 

Home.

Surrounded by those I love.

 

Crack pipes burning.

No food, no heat.

Gunshots and stabbings.

Car crashes and suicides.

Ambulances, hospitals, and morgues.

 

Crying.

Hurting.

Bleeding.

Dying.

Gone.

 

Home.

Thankful that I have one.

Aren’t you?