It's almost Christmas, <br />and I hate Christmas. <br />I don't like getting presents, <br />because then <br />I have to give them, <br />and I spend all my money <br />on coffee and cigarettes. <br /> <br />Everyone's fake at Christmas. <br />There's no such thing <br />as 'holiday spirit'... <br />not anymore. <br />Even Wal-Mart employees <br />can't say 'Merry Christmas'. <br />It doesn't appeal to all parties. <br />By the time they start saying <br />'Happy Holidays' <br />Hannukah has already passed. <br />If I was a jew, <br />Hitler would be followed <br />by Santa Claus <br />on my 'I hate...' list. <br /> <br />We have 12 Christmas trees <br />in our home. <br />None of which <br />were decorated <br />by anyone <br />but my mother. <br /> <br />Today I played Christmas tunes <br />on our piano. <br />I took it as sight-reading practice. <br />Others thought I was also falling <br />into holiday cheer. <br />They were wrong. <br />None of the songs I played <br />were about Jesus <br />or Santa. <br />They were about fire <br />(minus the chestnuts roasting) <br />and blue, lonely Christmases. <br />When I played <br />'I'll be Home for Christmas' <br />I was thinking about 'Denny's'. <br /> <br />But the icing <br />on the proverbial Christmas cookie <br />took place when I braved Wal-Mart <br />about a week ago. <br />A tall, black man <br />was ringing the salvation army bell. <br />He was singing Christmas favorites <br />at the top of his lungs, <br />and it made me smile... <br />no because my Grinch of a heart <br />was warmed, <br />but because <br />he was drunk off his ass.<br /><br />Samantha Bursich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/christmas-in-the-21st-century/
