Breadcrumbs: A Poetry Collection

Black Market Santa

The stories of Santa are partially true
He comes down your chimney and rides a sleigh too
He likes milk and cookies and says "Ho Ho Ho"
But there's something bout Santa that you might not know

Your stockings are hung from the chimney with care
But good old St. Nicholas, he's not aware
He's not here to leave presents or candy or joy
He leaves it to parents to dole out the toys

So what does old Santie keep in that red sack?
A lifetime of valuables slung on his back
He sneaks into houses in jolly disguise
And plucks precious items from under your eyes

Yes, that watch that you swore you had hid safe and sound
Was stolen by Santa right off of the ground
Your grandmothers ring you thought fell down the drain?
If Santa came by, you might think again

A piece of fine china, a real snake skin bag
Are all things that Santa Claus enjoys to snag
He fills up his sack with your trinkets and jewelry
Then heads back up north for a bit of tomfoolery

And what does St. Nicholas do with your treasures?
Is he saving them up for his own selfish pleasures?
Contrary, he sells them to the highest bidder
And rakes in the dough, the old crafty kidder

Oh black market Kringle, you conniving devil
You take "Secret Santa" to a whole different level
And somehow you've gotten away with your trick
For who would suspect sweet old jolly St. Nick?