Seasons greetings and happy holidays.
They don’t say Christmas in the office anymore.
The word is banned.
I suppose someone would have objected,
Human Resources called a meeting,
Sent out a survey,
And marked the word rejected.
Scratched it out with a black marker.
My religion does not care about Christ’s birth.
But Christmas is still a time of fond memories.
Not turkeys or mince pies.
But siblings whispering under the quilt.
Lazy mornings. Vacations from school.
Plans of cricket matches in the mist.
Fake Santas in orange jump suits.
Suzy Aunty visiting us with a plate
Of yummy fruit cake.
But there is no Christmas anymore.
Human Resources sent out a memo.
We must be politically correct.
Do not worry.
You won’t need to spend any money.
The firm will reimburse the cost
Of any black markers used within
And so we sit in our swivel chairs,
Surrounded by tinsel, mistletoe, bells
And scratched out words.
Perhaps everyone needs to read poetry.
They must know words do not mean
One specific thing.
Their lustre is only restricted
By the limits of your mind
And the edges of your imagination.
Note: This poem is a comment on the trend of political correctness. It does not bear any relation to any HR policies in any firm(s) the author is currently (or may have been in the past) employed in.