Numbers suffocate my one,
surrounded by the lights,
all that’s wrong; is kept so won
as they enjoy the fights,
let some needed Christmas cheer
mask up all the pain,
imbibing bought; and stolen beer
coin lifeblood down the drain,
Jesus is not at home,
just our suits of habit; that
ignore to use a comb
continue pride; just grab it,
spruces act as towers,
underneath greed stilts,
smile with all the powers
that build up all the guilts,
fleshling robots shine,
a woeful made replacement,
plans come true; to make the crime,
whilst hope is in the basement,
shorten mortal lives;
don’t question operation,
for; popular is where it lies,
bandwagon; every nation,
oh! St Nick, I cry to you,
my tears are so profuse,
please give me a better view
away from such abuse,
gift wrap a better kind,
worthy of esteem,
where both the world and man; not blind
live out belated dream.