Gifted

December,

the merchants wet dream,

beaming grubby the lot of ’em,

Santa’s yes men

lining the route to Bethlehem.

*

A myth,

it is not,

don’t get caught,

without gifts,

such brazen display

of war on Christmas

is unforgivable.

*

Cosy wintry Christmas morning,

an empty shell,

absent crinkly coloured paper

dotted with

reindeer sleighs and bears,

luring nifty fingers greedy

to ascertain one’s worth

in the eyes of family,

loved ones, friends and colleagues.

*

Endless sweets,

kingly feasts resplendent stuffed,

relax and enjoy God’s blessings,

life is good at Christmas,

only dissenters

without jobs and Jesus rail against,

trying to put a stop to “guess what I got!”

To hell with them.

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Comments
3 Responses to “Gifted”
  1. If this is written with serious intent, you and I are going to have to disagree. I dislike Christmas, and loathe the rampant commercialism that is foisted on us in its name.

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