The Death of Saint Santa

A Little Light Humor for the Holiday Season

(Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas! I published this piece last year and am re-releasing it for the holiday season.)

"The Death of Saint Santa" 

It was the night before Christmas, 
And all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, 
Not even a mouse.

The children were sleeping, 
Their parents awake, 
Nervously watching, 
Their screen’s blue display. 
While out in the street, 
Sat a van double-parked, 
Off its engine rolled steam, 
As it blocked all the cars. 

“When will he come? 
He’s due to arrive.” 
“Don’t worry none, 
He’s always on time.”  

So Mommy and Daddy, 
Went off to bed,
With a happier mind, 
And a much lighter head. 

They knew not to worry, 
They knew they’d be fine, 
They’d ordered their gifts, 
From Amazon Prime! 

‘Twas the night before Christmas, 
And all through the house, 
Not a creature was stirring, 
Not even a mouse. 

And running came Nick, 
The driver tonight, 
To start up his van, 
And take off in flight. 
And like that he ran, 
With the speed of a reindeer, 
For the good of the parents, 
Who ordered their kids’ cheer. 

They could have bought early, 
They could have prepared, 
And maybe they would have, 
If they really cared, 

About having a Christmas, 
That everyone shared, 
From those with the riches,
To the poorest down there.

But we know that we don’t, 
Or else we would mind, 
That we’re whipping Saint Nick,  
On this Silent Night. 

We love the convenience, 
Of Amazon Prime, 
Things when you want them,
At the drop of a dime.

But for that a price,  
A price must be paid, 
By the bloodshed of Santa, 
On this holy day. 

He’s bearing the sleigh, 
His crown of long bells, 
He’s marching his way, 
Straight towards his hell. 

In Christmas’s past, 
In Yuletides of Yore, 
There was magic in how, 
The tree was adorned. 
By a thousand new gifts, 
From where, who could know? 
It seemed like they’d come,
Right out of the snow! 

But now there’s no magic, 
Nothing special this time, 
We all know our gifts, 
Came from Amazon Prime. 

They were brought by a driver,
His name might be Nick,
Who has to miss Christmas, 
To cover that shift!

And when he gets home, 
The fire’s burnt low, 
His kids fast asleep, 
Beside the window. 

But it wasn’t for Santa, 
That they kept their watch,
They were waiting for Dadda, 
To walk in with his haunch. 

A most lovéd father,
Who missed Christmas Day, 
Delivering presents, 
While other kids played. 

These fruits of convenience, 
The lives we enjoy, 
Are all brought by people, 
Not fully employed. 

It used to be Santa, 
Working hard full-time, 
But now it’s an army, 
Of contracts that drive. 

With no benefits, 
And no holidays, 
Our poor old Saint Nick, 
Must work through his pain. 

Is this the Christmas,
Of neighborly cheer? 
Or are you projecting, 
For your fiscal year? 

Santa was good, 
Santa was kind, 
He was a symbol of giving -
One not divine. 

And this was the greatest, 
Of his many crimes, 
The way that he taught, 
Kids to draw lines. 

The right and the wrong, 
The good and the bad, 
From that silly song, 
They learned to judge Dad. 

‘Cuz Dad was a good one, 
A rich one at that, 
A giver of gifts, 
At the drop of a hat.

But he could be naughty, 
He did bad things too, 
Like doubling profits, 
By firing Sue. 

It’s a dangerous game, 
American Virtue, 
They cherish your name, 
Before they desert you. 

They built up their Santa, 
For young girls and boys, 
To work at the mall, 
And sell them more toys. 

And now they don’t need him, 
They built UberSleigh™, 
The death of Saint Santa, 
On this Christmas Day.