Run, Run, Rudolph..

So Rudolph ran through Christmas snow            
nostril's flared, foam flecked, nose aglow,            
frantic clangs from his cracked brass bells            
spooked by oaths, blows, jeers, kicks and yells,           
of indignant brat's harsh bellows.            
            
" Don't want dolls, trains, but, gun ammo!          
an' guns, Glock'n Colt, duh!, Dumbo! "            
The deranged mob chased him pell-mell            
so, Rudolph ran...            
             
"It's kill or be killed, you Dodo! "          
they screamed, debased by gun agro,            
trapped in drug and gun seller's hells           
he heard shots toll peace's death knell            
no appeal, full of dreadful woe,            
so, Rudolph ran...