The cold gripped like a giant fist.
It clenched and squeezed until it drained all of the life out of me.
My blanket was tattered and torn in so many places it looked like a piece of Swiss cheese.
It was Christmas.

The bricks I lay my head against were icy and rough.
My cheeks were cut from the toughness because they were so fragile.
I didn’t even feel a thing, for I was numb with cold.
It was Christmas.

I had no shoes and my feet were bleeding from walking so far.
My toes were bent over and covered with snow that fell from the sky in great clumps.
At least I had water to drink from the melting snow, and extra bread that I had stolen earlier.
It was Christmas.

The sky was dark, almost pitch black except for the slice of moon and the few stars.
The darkness consumed the sky from the lamp post all the way to the top of the Chrysler building. My stomach was full, and the soft blanket of snow surrounded me and kept me warm that night. The stars twinkled for one last time.
It was Christmas.

That's powerful...It's sorta like a poem.

yah, it is, but I wanted it to be more like a story really...thnx!