Santa vs Banta
I was raised in the tropics,
Chirstmas was in December and a season of frolic.
I remember her, not because I am Christian,
Because pals at school, used to sing carols, and I used to drool.
It wasn't ever chilly, never a shade cold,
But Christmas trees lit up with the warmth of us all.
I did not know then what was a mistletoe,
When I met her, I realised it was a potent scroll.
I stood near your home, near your office, always under a tree,
Waiting for you to come, and for the mistle in you to toe to my plea.
But it didn't grow in our climate, and no one told me that, it was too early,
For google to help me on stuff like that.
You wrote to Santa, just for fun, through emails and he replied back
That shameless old stud,
When I followed suit, requested he grow some here,
He never even replied,
Perhaps it was your smile, or it was your scent,
That got the old man wild.
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