Celebrate A Work of Fiction

For some reason or another I feel I must explain this piece. When I was a kid I believed but I was lied to so I don't anymore. Thought I was gonna get something I didn't and that Santa isn't real.

  Weeds through windows, through twinkeling lights on the lawn.
Christmas comes but once a year, then the trees are gone.
Rejoice in sweet aromas of pine or cedar or fir.
Christmas comes again next year, there right back where they where.

Take your pegan traditions to serve them up before your eyes.
Garner them with special ribbon, garland of colors far and wide.
Presents under boughs, for undeserving, ungreatfull youths, better off with the box.
White to cover top of lip and crumbs to cover chin of a lie we've let continue for far to many years.

Our children believe what we tell them, yet we are teaching them to lie
Our children believe in Bunnies that lay eggs and chirp like chickens because some where down the line, we believed the same.

Do we not remember did we ever forget?
We were once a child too and we heard it all the same.
Age crept up , time crept in, slowly came the blade.

A wicked tongue once said; that satan dressed in red. 

Rabbits cluck and lay eggs, money comes from ferries who in turn take a tooth.

A fat man slides down a chimmney with just a wink and knod, raindeer fly around the world over night and land on roof tops without a sound.

 

Run quick fat man the police are comin!

I should shoot you where you stand!

Leave the rabbit, though I don't know why you have it.

I don't think so, the dentures too!

 

I must admit it can be fun to spin a yarn or two.

I can tell a whale of a fin but Id be lying then.

I don't belive in a red suited fat man.

I don't believe in an egg laying rabbit.

I don't believe in a tooth buying fairy.

 

Yet when april comes I'll boil eggs and dye them vermillion green.

We'll hide them about the yard for the little ones to find.

When a tooth falls out I'll creep on tip of toe to buy it for a dollar.

When december roles round I'll unshackle the ground, cutting the tree down.

We will all stand round it as we place our colorful ribbons and garland upon it.

We'll wrap the gifts and place them under now heavy boughs.

We'll read of franksense and gold and mere, sure do wish you were.

We'll go to church on Sundayso the children know the way.

 

No man in red and furry white, me or ma will greet the night.

No rabbit layin colored eggs, me or ma will hide them right.

No fairy kreepin to foot of bed, me or ma will do it instead.

I insist, theres less pain that way, and far better honesty. It's a bit of a dying art these days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Please recamend formatting options and what not but its a bit of prose poetry I guess. Let me know what you think please!