Nobody’s ever happy. Lo, behold A plethora of Christmas, and Michelle Aglow with all the cheeriness to quell The doubt of any spirit. I am told That every year a war is waged upon The symbols of religion, any phrase Reminding us about the end of days And saviors being born before the dawn, And here, at least, the president is out Meandering among the many trees. No matter; people only see the fees Incurred by all the Christmas. Never doubt The human race’s power to complain Of being led by those they feel a pain. Perhaps the better word here is “insane.”
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