Dear Santa,
Everything is white with no one in sight
Perfect to commit my ingenious crime
I don’t mind being on the naughty list
If you don’t care to snow more heavily
Since my footprints do make you complicit
In my act of evil, good for nothing scheming
My back hurts from the heaving
No thanks to you for resurrecting
Could’ve chosen to be alive late January
Gives more time for Christmas shopping
You know, end the year with good old napping
And push the stress to next century
Yes, hundred years once giveth thanks we shall
Save the turkeys and carols and reunions forsaken
I curse more seeing sour faces, hearing children wail
These ungrateful lots can take their gifts and rot in Hell
My nosy neighbour just called the cops to throw me in jail
Honestly, I forget how many marbles and hair I lost this season
As I plummet down the chimney
Know that every dad in this country
Is doing your job for free
I wish you better not write me as naughty
For I shall bring my wailing toddler
And hunt you down with his crying
And my screaming
In agony,
Timonthy