First Of All, Santa...The Roof Is Pitched Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Dear Santa...
It is easier for me to accept I have been scammed,
Most of my life.
Than to continue playing the same mental games,
That you ride in a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer.
And that you land on my roof...
To then fit your enormous girth through a chimney.
First of all, Santa...
The roof is pitched.
And I doubt if you and your flying reindeer,
Could balance on it.

And the closest thing we have to a chimney,
Is a hole in the roof...
The landlord has been promising to fix,
Since my folks tried to pass off a stuffed chicken...
As a turkey for Thanksgiving a month ago.

However...
IF you are real and you find this note,
I am taping outside my window...
Leave me everything you think I deserve.
AND 'if' you do get this note without me hearing you,
I will believe everything about you I have ever heard.

You see,
My bedroom window is on the third floor.
And every night before I go to bed,
I would have a long talk with the angels there.
And I've been waiting to hear something from them,
To say negative about you.
But all they do is smile and walk through my walls at night.
And...
I bet you do the same thing!