Santa clause says I'm naughty for being flirty in my thirties. My stocking was empty not even a penny from that Benny. I thought I would get some play but he was gay and I'm not his prey. He was so sexy wearing his red costume riding in his sled and all I wanted was to be fed. So now I'm all alone and unknown in need of a loan. My family is all on vacation and I'm having a addiction to my new temptation. If you see me crying please don't start prying cause I'll have to start lying about dear old Saint Nick. Next year I'll be good and not misunderstood by that old prude.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem