The story of a bad elf
In a cold snowy hill, there lived an elf
Who was completely and always enwrapped in himself.
People around him called him a Grinch
For all he only wanted was to be filthy rich.
He was stubborn and bad-tempered,
Never smiled or remembered
Any of the good that people had done in the past,
Because for him nothing ever was meant to last.
Life had left him bitter and sour,
He had felt pain by the hour,
Now cared less with every year
And was hoping that money would instead bring him cheer.
But this season he learnt a lesson
That would be hard to forget.
For in his possession
Came a small statuette.
It resembled his first love
A girl as young as dawn,
The one who broke his heart
And bade him begone.
As he saw it, a tear ran down his cheek
And became ice as it fell
Then another followed in his freak,
As though he had toppled a well.
He began to understand,
That money was not the goal.
It would not bring him happiness,
Or the love of the other half of his soul.
So he radically changed it all,
Made the neighbors doubt their eyes,
For what they saw was a man changed
As though he had suddenly won a lottery prize.
And then, as the little things made the difference,
She appeared like a light in the distance,
Unexpectedly she arrived in the night,
Falling onto him, like a radiant light.
So, the Grinch became a happy elf,
Realizing that we are all worth more than we believe ourselves,
That what we seek cannot be found with might,
But only if we search deep in our hearts and broaden our sight.