Poetry

Mindless Christmas songs polluting my ears
Dull souless drivel spewing out fake cheers
And those bloody sprouts haunting me through the years
On the mind and body it's a strain

No one tells what gift they want from you
Desperate that inspiration will shine through
Eventually the only thing left that you can do
Is say 'sod it, it's vouchers again'

From shop to shop fro-ing and to-ing
With no clue about what I am doing
Queueing and queueing and queueing and queuing
'Til I just scream and moan

X-factor puppets who just need slapping
Running out of tape half way through wrapping
No wonder my nerves are close to snapping
Merry Christmas, now leave me alone!