Uh-oh…

Timmy next year,

Will be on Santa’s naughty list, have no fear,

He sits at the top of the stairs wearing a sneer,

Waiting for Santa to leave him a bike at the tree or near…

The antidote clutched in his little hand,

In the background Christmas music from a band,

Santa thinks how could he bury lil’ Tim in the sand,

Maybe it would be better to send him up in a rocket, unmanned…

Santa does have his way,

He can be devious and bide his time,

He will wait till little Timmy thinks he forgot this day,

Then snatch him up and over an ant hill he will forever lay…

Don’t think of this as a Christmas horror,

Think of it more as little Timmy getting his due,

For the time will come for Timmy to get a clue,

After all he did take from Santa something new,

He needs to be taught his lesson, his life a hell,

For all time, ever and ever, he will never own,

He will be a constant borrower,

Till that fateful day he does take his own life,

His brains he will spread, with a gun they will be blown…

        © ed ~ 12/10/04