Hell looked much like paradise
when summer came at last
it bore green trees and dry latrines
and when it came, came fast.
And if you arrived in the month of June,
It wouldn’t be so clear,
Quite what the winter did to splinter
Those same you’ll soon hold dear.
These families, these individuals
were sleeping, eating, weeping wet
not all are now survivors.
For some, the cold was bad enough,
and the water in their tents,
others slept by foamed sea spray
that soaked their vestments.
There simply wasn’t one hard roof
under which to rest
not one heated, seated room
like that which Europe’s best
Politicians had to sit in
and talk of Winterisation
by which they’d glamp the camps in time
for Christmas precipitation.
But sent to sleep by their own hot air,
They woke to find it March,
And one they’d fed, they found those dead,
They’d left right in the lurch.
Meanwhile the gnawing cold had found
a home in those that tried
to do what governments had failed
and push back Winter’s tide.
But how much worse for those that slept!
and waited for the Heads
of EU member states that staked
their countries’ gates in reds.
The red of children’s hands grown numb
so numb they could not eat
the red of dangerous heaters used
and fumes they had to eat.
The red of suicide attempts
by those hung on a tree,
their bodies baubles hidden far
from what the public see.
The red of fires quickly sprung
by those that just crave heat,
that uncontrolled reduces tents
to ashes, dust and peat.
And this was Winter, don’t you recall?
When Hell revamped with ice,
Left those dead or deadly pale,
In the Aegean Paradise.