The Ghost of Christmas Future

Marley’s Warning Much to do with shadow and ghastly renown, Showing us all where we end up in the ground. Rusty hinges, let swing old cemetery gates. Their screeching is all you offer our debates about how we will change, how we’ll do better but attrition clouts not, the eternal bedder. Ebenezer’s Volta Show not the casket, show not the carriage. I have not the time for dreams to disparage. But you knell all the same, in your dingy cloak Damn you, I am terrified, I’m starting to choke Wake me from this horror, wake me from this dream He got the better of me, “I’ll Change!” I scream On the ground I wake, all is quiet, all is calm I’m safe from that devil, my “humbug”, my alms I’ve renounced my ingratitude, saved from the noose On to make right, and buy old Cratchit a prize goose