(Belated Christmas poem. I was rather irritated at how Christmas in America - even the church - is so much about the warm fuzzies when the first Christmas was full of pain, suffering, and shame.
I am working on setting it for SATB and have it roughly written out, if anyone is interested, let me know)

This is my body, broken for you.
His slippery flesh bursts from the womb
Her anguished cries that had pierced the night
Now echo in lungs of the one true Light.

This, This is Christ the King
Joining the sorrow of the suffering
The infant crowned
Blood and sweat on the dust of the ground.

This is my blood, shed for you.
Hers was spilled, bringing Him here,
His poured out rebirthing her soul
Torn apart, making wounded whole.

This, This is Christ the King
Yet arms ‘round their innocents cling.
A sword, He brings, not sterile creche
For God has come, and in the flesh.

a few notes:
The infant crowned refers to the crowning at birth, but is also meant to point to His Kingship
the dust of the ground references not only stable floor but Adam
the innocents is a reference to the often-termed "slaughter of the innocents," the massacre of the children under 2 by herod.
Creche is a European term for the Nativity scene.