Stealing Back Christmas

Call it Christmas treason. But I've got my reasons. Your peppermint smiles

rot out with the seasons. Whoville's a postcard dipped in arsenic cheer.

But behind every wreath is a whisper, "You don't belong here."

Yeah, I'm the headline villain in your hometown lore. But you sang

me into madness long before. You weaponize joy like a candy cane blade.

Then blame me for the mess your perfection made. Go on, rewrite the myth

to make your conscience clean. But the cracks show through that tinsel sheen.

So I'm stealing back Christmas. Not petty, just poetic justice. You crowned me