The snow falls like ash, Whispering secrets only fools believe. A Christmas tree stands in the distance, Alone, forgotten— A beacon for no one. Inside, he's frozen, wrapped in silence, His face painted with last night’s despair. The Santa hat slouches, A joke no one laughed at, While the engine ticks like a funeral drum. Somewhere out there, the world is still turning, But not here— Here, the lights died long ago.