Last month we had a Poem competition. Your task was to write a poem
to Santa to get what you want - whether it's a sex-puppy, bottle of rum
or anything else. As a prize, we promised to publish the best poem.
Here it is - it is written by Radha Jaini. Dear most red & venerable Santa,
In this letter, I've put much thought.
It's not about what I really want,
but about what I really do not.
I know you can't control Grandma
[My father says nobody can!]
but if you could steal her gift to me,
I'd consider you quite a man.
I've had my full of knit sweaters
and I don't need anymore socks.
I tried to bar her from my house,
but there just aren't strong enough locks!
As for Aunt Mildred's gifts to me,
you can take those on your way out.
Give them to a child somewhere
who REALLY is suffering from gout.
Aunt Mildred is a nutritionist
as I'm sure you already know.
I just can't take anymore solutions
to problems that have yet to grow.
Take my little brother's gift to me, too.
[You'll notice it right away!
It's the one covered with glue & snot,
and probably paint and clay.]
He fancies himself an artist
and, though I heartily agree,
I think it's fair to give me skates
and give his art to a gallery.
I propose this simple solution to you:
for all my presents that go away
just leave one from your magic bag.
I think it's better this way.
It's not that I'm ungrateful, Santa.
It's not that I'm mean or don't care.
I think of cold, sick artists in the world,
and I feel that this is unfair.
Leave me the bike and the new clothes.
Leave me the lego zoo.
Take my presents to children who need them.
It's the least I can do.
Tags:
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