X-mas

'X' marks the spot

where a pearl of great worth

is being buried.

I watch as

history is muted,

traditions diluted;

meaning looted,

Christmas polluted with

idols

perched on evergreen trees

in the eaves,

flashing with tinsel:

beneath all the chintz

all are dead and uprooted.

Religion's disputed

so fragments of festive 'goodwill' are recruited;

Santa Claus hangs on a tree:

Is there mercy for me?