A Prick from a Christmas Tree

December 4, 2009

Underneath the Christmas tree
Santa left a man for me.
“Oh Dahling”, shouted I with glee,
“We’ll be as happy as can be.”

The first weeks were a mist of bliss,
Each day ended with a kiss.
But soon that kiss became a hiss
And I knew something was amiss.

He did not like my style of hair.
He did not like my underwear.
He said my face was far from fair.
And soon, for him, I did not care.

He pawed and mauled my bends and curves
And said, “Don’t eat so much hors d’oeuvres”.
So very soon I did observe
That he was getting on my nerves.

He would not let me stay at home
When I’d wish to be alone.
He’d bore me with his dulcet tones,
With one word sounding like a tome.

I could not look him in the face.
I did not want him in my place.
I wanted back my personal space.
Return the chump, bring back the chase.

Next Christmas came and I saw red,
For I knew I’d been misled.
So once I had my fill in bed,
I put a bullet through his head!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s