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He'll leave the baubles in the loft this year;
he so dislikes those sparkly plastic trees,
and real ones these days are far too dear.
The cost of heating home has put a squeeze
on almost everything that's fun, I fear.

He'll send some greetings texts, no Christmas card;
now that he's seen the cost of postage stamps,
using the pub's free wifi in their yard.
A happy holiday to all, love gramps!
He's worked his life; it shouldn't be this hard.

He'll walk to do his Christmas shop through snow;
not at the store but at the free food bank;
the bailiff took his car some months ago;
rising interest, he has that to thank!
A very Merry Christmas Ho Ho Ho!

He'll watch a little telly on the day;
a slice of bread, cold chicken soup from can,
to keep the dreaded hunger pangs at bay;
this hero veteran, this old guardsman.
And in the cold, alone, he'll fade away.

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