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Blood and Envy - A Cautionary Christmas Poem
By Jude S. Walko 

Twas some time after All Hallows Eve.
The roof started to leak like a sieve.
But the buckets of rain,
seem to wash away the pain,
and left young Timmy relieved.

The holidays swiftly descended down,
spreading cheer throughtout his town.
Each caught up in his own,
leaving Timmy completely alone.
Nary even a concerned soul to be found.

Timmy believed he perhaps was forgiven.
But soon realized there were no thanks for giving.
For as the Church bells did sound,
crowds soon gathered around,
and realized the hell which past months, he'd lived in.

Streets formerly filled with mirth,
now appeared, scarlet, as with violent birth.
Timmy looked up with an innoncent plea.
But no forebearance would be given to he.
Indeed there'd be no Peace on his Earth.

Mrs. Plum's legs hung by the fire they'd be,
Her entrails decorated the tree.
We'd soon be remiss,
if her husband we'd miss,
His head apart from its own body.

All Timmy had asked for was a train.
A simple request again and again.
Yet his parents must be daft
as they ignored what he asked
and as a result needed to feel some pain.

When Timmy was asked what he'd done.
He responded with wit and aplomb.
Were they not great providers of he?
Of what other use could they possibly be?
Clearly what was done, must've been done.

Soon the town's tale of Timmy grew epic in size,
of his parents grotesque and untimely holiday demise.
But let it never be said,
that therein a child went to bed
wihtout being quite sure of a Christmas surprise.

A small token of love to a boy.
like a train, some candy, or a toy,
can be used to let demons subside,
reasonably preventing even parricide,
and keeping the season with joy.

And so let the lesson be learned.
An' in your memory it may be burned.
That if a small child should ask,
take upon this small task,
or into a meatpie, promptly be turned.
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