Warnings: If you believe in Santa Claus, DO NOT READ
When I was ten the magic died
The day I learned the truth
That Santa Claus and his reindeer
Were fictions of my youth
Nothing was the same again
The world had lost its spark
I didn't know what I could do
To take away the dark
Then I was twelve on Christmas Eve
When I was called downstairs
Into the heart of wrapping land
Where no good child dares
Here I was given my big task—
To help my parents build
This play kitchen for my sister
A task meant for the skilled
Hours of confusion filled
With whispers and with groans
We finished it but at the price
Of all our aching bones
I was bitter at the time
And effort that it took
I would have like to watched TV
Or go and read a book
But I'll never forget the way
My sister looked that day
The smile glued upon her face
Each time she went to play
Though years have passed she never learned
That I was "Santa's elf"
And for a moment I was someone
Bigger than myself
I don't believe in Santa Claus
But I think that's okay
For Santa comes just once a year
Upon his magic sleigh
But I wake up each morning with
The knowledge in my heart
That making others happy is
A magic we impart
Merry Christmas, whenever you're reading this ;)
YOU ARE READING
Poems to Leave Streaks of Ink
PoetryAnd I'd rage at the monsters, But that's the task of fools, Who cannot bring themselves to know, Monsters are humans' tools... I write poems like this, just usually longer...feel free to give some of them a read:)
