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Poetry from within
   

A Cynic's View of Christmas


Christmas is coming and the geese are getting fat

Santa Claus is on his way with his silly floppy hat

He parks his reindeer on the roof when at your house he stops

And hoping that the fire is out, down your chimney drops



The reason that his face is red and he always seems so merry

Must be that every stop he makes he scoffs mince pies and sherry

His beard is made of cotton wool and he’s got a big fat gut

If he doesn’t bring you what you want, then kick him in the butt !



You’ve no doubt wondered what to buy for family and friends

And what they’ll finally get from you on your financial state depends

So don’t be panic-stricken when you read your Christmas list

But calmly whisper “ B--ger it”, then go out and just get p-p-plastered



We’re given things like cheap perfume or a very jazzy tie

And if we’re honest with ourselves, they’re things we wouldn’t buy

But to make sure friends don’t get upset and maybe feel affronted

With tongue in cheek we’ll smile and say “Just what I’ve always wanted !”



We sing of Good King Wenceslas and on cards see Christmas roses

And those silly little snowmen with carrots for their noses

We go up the Pub’ quite often and sup a lot more beer

Is this really what is meant when they talk of Christmas cheer ?

Tom Porter