Sadness in the Street.

A discarded pair of pumps shedding empty kisses; the splattered chicken leg that hit her guarded face before the garbage bag; dollar earings from the corner store across the street; a forgotten teddy bear with cold, empty arms - a lost childhood. Three bullet holes dotting the imaginary "I"'s in a hastily graffittied message. A curious rat poking its whiskers between a spot of rust or what was once blood, and a half-eaten pizza crust.
She lay with her hair knotted between lifeless hooks, silently gasping for air she could not breathe. Flowers that hadn't seen the sun since that first day of elementary school now browned, withered, and died. A lively dress was now a broken dream. Dark eyes mute, slight smile kissing pink lipstick resting on the fleshy brow of a baby wrapped in black. There was snow, and its sexless lips were blue. It slept on a bed of unwanted things.
How could she forget her child in the manger?
How could we forget that her name wasn't Mary?
A lonely star stared coldly over that dumpster in that alley, at the lost Cabbage Patch Kid finding the baby no one wanted to touch. It cried...

...There was no Santa Clause, and no such thing as Mommy.