A Child's Christmas

Who is that big fat Santa man? I’m not quite sure if I’m a fan, He steals the cookies I leave out. He judges me to cry and pout. He watches me both night and day, Just like that mean old NSA. And does he even pay those elves, Who make the toys and sit on shelves? He’s not as jolly as he seems: The mall is filled with children’s screams! He pulls them up upon his lap, But they don’t buy that “Ho Ho” crap! Why does he hide in the North Pole? Why does he give the naughty coal? And does he give the poor kids toys? They need them most, those girls and boys. Could he not give them food and bread? ‘Cause he can give them mine instead. I fear for some he never came, Some kids have never heard his name. Why punish them for not believing? I simply can’t find this relieving. If he’s amazing like they say, Why doesn’t he just make their day? Why does he not show bad kids love? Why not feed poor kids he hears of? Why not show them that he exists, Why not put them on his nice list? 12/27/13 Form: Reverse Trochaic Tetrameter