Christmas Poem

In the far away land of Babblybrool
(a league or two from Istanbul,
just down the street from Liverpool)
there lived a creature very cruel,
who lived her life by this one rule:
"Everyone else is a stupid fool;
but as for me--ah, sweet, sweet me--I'm cool.''

Now who would ever talk like that?
You ask, who could be such a brat?
So full of herself, so pompous and mean--
it must've been some grand old queen,
a genius at least, or a rich handsome earl.
In fact it was just a little girl.

Just plain Lizzy, that was her name,
but six times a day you'd hear her exclaim
that she alone knew how to talk
and what to say and how to walk.
And just to prove it she would mock
the folks she chanced to meet.

"Check out the dwerd across the street!''
she'd say, and say in great disdain.
(Now here, perhaps, I should explain
in Babblybroolian "dwerd'' is a word
that means half a dweeb and half of a nerd.)

Well, as you might imagine, then,
this girl had not a single friend,
for who could bear to be around
someone who wore a constant frown?
That's not to say that Lizzy cared
one little bit; she just declared
her shiny automatic tweaker
(what we'd call a high-tech sneaker)
was the coolest thing around,
by far the hippest tweak in town.

So obsessed with being cool
she especially loved to ridicule
the little things throughout the year
that offered other people cheer.
Blue sky, puppy dogs and flowers
made her sneer for hours and hours.
School was dumb, and summer a drag.
But what really made her gag
was the season that we call
the time of peace, good will to all.
For since she was so very cool
she scorned things even vaguely yule.

Pretty gifts, Nativity scenes,
houses decked with red sardines
(quite common there; here seldom seen)--
this all filled others with delight
and so she scorned it day and night.

"Christmas? Bah! It's all old hat!
Why should I care for things like that?
How dull! It's all been done before.
It's out of style, and furthermore...''
And she'd go on like that all day.
But folks ignored her anyway
and hoping they would not be late
they hurried home to celebrate,
bustling along all full of cheer.
And as the happy day drew near
the good will spread from foe to friend,
till Lizzy cried, "When will it end?
These people have no dignity!
They're silly fools, not cool like me.''

And so to prove that she was cool,
she decided to be extra cruel:
She snatched a bowl of Christmas gruel
from some poor beggar on the street
and fed it to her parakeet.
Then, just to show that she was neat,
she smashed a Christmas wreath or two,
then painted all the churches blue
and buried presents in the sand.
In short, things soon got out of hand.
And so the folks of Babblybrool
resorted to their greatest tool
for getting rid of little pests
and did the thing that they did best.

Instead of getting very mad
or fighting back or feeling sad,
they just decided to be kind,
nice, generous and sweet; and find
what good they could in her. So wise,
they'd win her over by surprise!
And soon a crowd had gathered 'round.
But Lizzy staunchly stood her ground,
hurling insults left and right
until a small boy half her height
said "Merry Christmas, Lizzy dear!
That's why we are all gathered here.
We want to wish you well and say
we hope you have a joyful day.''

Well, Lizzy turned to glare at him:
"You little twit, you...I, ah...um...''
But before she could say much
an older lady said, "Ah, such
a lovely girl, so nice and sweet!''
and laid a present at her feet.

Then each and every person there
stepped up to face her awful glare
and one by one said something nice
(some people even did it twice)
to try and melt that block of ice.

At first, as you might guess, the girl
was stunned, and then she tried to hurl
her insults back at them but then
she stopped, and then she tried again.
She turned all red, then green, then blue.
She seemed to try to be nice too,
then changed her mind, sputtered and spumed,
turned rather purple, fussed and fumed.

Then suddenly folks saw a flash!
A poof of smoke, a pile of ash--
little Liz was gone and that
was what remained of the little brat.
(Surrounded by generosity,
she simply could not bear to be.)

The folks just sighed and turned away.
Since there was nothing more to say,
they went on home to be with friends
and ponder her pathetic end.
But to this day they still repeat
the tale of Liz who was too neat
and cool to ever share a part
of all the friendship in their hearts.

Now if this story shocks you, well,
of course there is no need to dwell
upon it since you'll never find
in your world someone so unkind.
For really, in your town or school
could there be anyone that cool?
(But if there is, I guess that you
now know exactly what to do.
Be kind, be kind at Christmas time!
And now I think I'll end this rhyme.)

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