A Christmas Poem

This poem, one of a collection of similar poems, takes its first line from a Christmas song. The song is noted at the end of the poem, with the artist whose version I listened to. I'll post a few more of these between now and the New Year. Expect to see more of these next year.

----

Oh holy night, the stars are brightly shining,
but we’ll profane this day tomorrow.
Somewhere in the hustle of Capitalism
Baby Jesus was lost.
Bless the food that we torture our bodies with.
Gluttony and sloth are our Christmas offerings
to God, but He will forgive us because He is love.
The next day we will look on our gifts with ingratitude
and exchange them for money,
because we never appreciated them anyway.

(Oh Holy Night-The Fold)