PoetrySad Poems

Santa Stories

Santa, they say
Is some clown in a costume;
And that his white skin
Is a paint that we may assume
That our kids are safe-in.

He’s the lie that we tell them:
That when the bell chimes,
One rates their good from one to ten;
Is forgiving and flies too. Well…
I hope you know kids grow too well.

Again, we teach that they be firm too
‘Let the other dude know you’re a man too’
Grip his hands like you’re holding a pistol
Firm. Eyes on the mark, and squared too
And so they grow bruising the girl’s too.

In business suits, shakes seal deals
Even if you lose a wager in bills’
Return the handshake!
Even if you want to bake him
A ‘die rich, but die well’ cake.

‘Cos business is what it is
You win one, lose the rest
Like dad’s always painted Santa
Only in red and white colour
Like AINBOW don’t matter.

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