A dog's Christmas

Strange, these people are
of rituals, righteousness, reticence
inebriation in silly hats
on a constant carousel of confusion,
but I just want my bone

What are all these shiny things?
salubriousness in fancy bows
as dancing eyes guise empty soups
once coloured paper wrapping yields,
but I just want my bone

Who is this strange, cherubic man?
crimson clad amongst the snow
as children flail about in glee
by soot filled hearths whilst hanging socks,
but I just want my bone

Funny, these people are
singing all these merry songs
yet afterwards just sharpened tongues
the excess now so crudely cold,
will somebody please give me my bone.