November’s here, let it begin
If you truly believe, then it’s a sin
Christmas has started, hear the plea.
All They want is your money
In this financial climate that’s so funny
Corporate greed is there to see.
People with no heart
Have it torn apart
Religion and business will not let you free.
Look to the stars, the consolation
All you see that glitters is consternation
Nowhere to hide, nowhere to flee.
They want your Dollar, they want their pound,
They brow beat you mercilessly, into the ground.
Money does not grow on a tree.
A child’s heart and their smile can be sought
But does not have to be bought
I shout! hear my plea.
Old eyes will weep for those who have past
But fresh in memories that will last
Humbug! Sigh humbug!
Watch the child decorate the tree.
Let us all embrace Christmas’s happiness
Put aside the sadness
No more humbug! Humbug!
Let the children play and shout, with laughter full of glee.
As I wash the families dinner dishes
Hopefully came true all your wishes
Humbug! Humbug is now a sweet
As I sit back and put up my feet.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Christmas Humbug. by Robert Green )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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