The Santa Lie

by Kelli Lee Weyand

SOME stupid kid must have told me.
Yes, maybe I should have foreseen
The fact that Santa wasn't real.
I was, after all, seventeen.

So now I hand out my digits
To all men during the holidays.
I give my number like Christmas candy
To lonely chaps in shady cafes.

Men are desperate this time of year
And I confess that so am I.
We all just try to console ourselves
From the trauma of The Santa Lie.

So wrap yourselves in Christmas lights,
Adorn your ears with baubles.
Give that man a wink and a giggle,
And ignore his one-legged wobble.

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