Bah Humbug

 

You do know I despise December, I hate 

the phony charade of some birthday of 

some 2000-year-old invalid tale; cursed 

this curmudgeonly game of giving or give not, 

this prequel of the paganistic ritual to Jesus, and

yet all the baubles, tinsel, and mistletoe in this world

won't glorify my disdain for Christmas, I have withstood 

the great tidings of puppetry, from every bough, tree, and

wreath that symbolizes this grand pretense only espouses 

the obstinate loathe, moreover the mockery of lucid lights

upon each home only further scourges this contempt, this

epochal yuletide of the meek whose pecuniary homage to a

smattering myth who takes their prayer bribes and yet still

swipes their loved ones year after year without recompense 

or notice of hypocrisy, cups of good cheer will numb any 

reasoning, and more prayer to the Ghost who never answers

anyone or any cause, for logic, is an indispensable precept and

believers arguably revoke any deception other than their own

dogma, never refute a fool because he may be the one that buries 

you in that crowded cemetery, I truly enjoy the happiness that

circumvent the peaceful tidings of laughter and love, yet, I see

human touch and frailty around every Christmas tree, hark, 

for I've seen the disappointment and sadness of Christmas, 

and the shame upon every wretched Scrooge who’s looted from 

the helpless and weak; so, my friends have your Holidays and 

wait for the spirit to leave you.