In a town known as Whoville, nestled snug in the snow, Lived a Grinch on Mount Crumpit, where no one would go. He watched from his cave with a frown and a sigh, As the Whos down in Whoville let Christmas draw nigh.
Each year, Christmas came with a grand, noisy cheer, But the Grinch felt no joy, only heartache and fear. For his family was toxic, their words sharp and mean, Turning holidays bitter, a far cry from serene.
"Why do they gather with smiles on their faces? Don't they know family can be the worst of all places?" He grumbled and muttered, his heart feeling tight, As he watched the Whos celebrate from morning to night.
The homes were all filled with laughter and song, But the Grinch's own memories were painful and long. He remembered the fights, the harsh words and tears, The way his family had fueled all his fears.
He watched as the Whos, in their festive delight, Shared love and warmth, their hearts feeling light. But the Grinch's own heart was heavy with dread, Haunted by memories of things that were said.
The Grinch's heart ached as he sat in his lair, Watching the joy spread everywhere. And so, from that perch, he continued to see, A holiday lost in a toxic spree.