Oh the Whos are who-whoing, they do that a lot.
How I wish I could silence them with a garrote.
They who-who in the morning, and all through the day,
and then half of the night they’re who-whoing away.
It’s enough to make one’s lower incisors clinch –
and not once have they thought of inviting the Grinch.
With their singing and dancing and merriment-making,
do the Whos give a fig for a green heart that’s breaking?
Has a Who ever stopped by, or asked me to tea?
No, of course not, they’re oh so superior to me.
All they see is a monster, not one of their kind –
to the Grinch’s despair they are willfully blind.
Well I’ll show them, I’ll wipe that smug grin off their faces.
I will steal all the stockings from all the fireplaces,
and remove every present from under each tree –
that’ll silence their infernal whoing, you’ll see.
© 2019 Mark Simpson
Image Source: Illumination and Universal Pictures