Array ( [sid] => 185685 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => I/'/m Not Santa Claus [time] => 2018-12-19 01:31:36 [hometext] => [bodytext] => I get really upset and frustrated this time of the year.
Children think I/'/m Santa Claus with eight reindeers.
Kids think that I/'/m Santa because I/'/m fat and have a beard that/'/s long and white.
They don/'/t believe me when I say I won/'/t come to their homes on Christmas night.
When I/'/m at restaurants, children constantly sit on my lap.
I tell them to take a hike and their mothers give me a slap.
Kids ask me how many elves are working at the North Pole.
They tug on my beard and some even lose bladder control.
I/'/m getting really sick and tired of this happening to me.
I smell really bad because kids soil my clothes with their pee.
I tell kids over and over that I/'/m not Santa but they never buy it.
Because I/'/m fat, a smart aleck little boy told me to go on a diet.
I couldn/'/t be Santa Claus even if I wanted to because I/'/m afraid of heights.
I can/'/t convince the little brats that I won/'/t be showing up on Christmas night. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 65 [topic] => 7 [informant] => randyjohnson [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - I'm Not Santa Claus


I'm Not Santa Claus
Date: Wednesday, 19th December 2018 @ 01:31:36 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: randyjohnson
I get really upset and frustrated this time of the year.
Children think I/'/m Santa Claus with eight reindeers.
Kids think that I/'/m Santa because I/'/m fat and have a beard that/'/s long and white.
They don/'/t believe me when I say I won/'/t come to their homes on Christmas night.
When I/'/m at restaurants, children constantly sit on my lap.
I tell them to take a hike and their mothers give me a slap.
Kids ask me how many elves are working at the North Pole.
They tug on my beard and some even lose bladder control.
I/'/m getting really sick and tired of this happening to me.
I smell really bad because kids soil my clothes with their pee.
I tell kids over and over that I/'/m not Santa but they never buy it.
Because I/'/m fat, a smart aleck little boy told me to go on a diet.
I couldn/'/t be Santa Claus even if I wanted to because I/'/m afraid of heights.
I can/'/t convince the little brats that I won/'/t be showing up on Christmas night.

This poem is Copyright © randyjohnson


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