Santas Cause
I’ve gained some weight and I can see my beard is turning white,
To get the kid’s presents put under the tree I stay up half the night.
In order to read the tags I have to wear my reading glasses,
My wife just brought me a tray of cookies that she baked with molasses.
Now I can see that I need to work on my list of character flaws,
I have to be good because now it seems I’m turning into Santa Claus.
There was a time in my young life that I was so cool and slick,
But now more often it seems that I’m confused with ol’ St. Nick.
I could fight it I suppose and try to pretend that it’s a pack of lies,
The more I think about it though; I might like a sleigh that flies.
Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011
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