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My Wishlist

The list I leave out for Santa
has grown increasingly short
over the years. Where once
I asked for toys and games,
books and television shows,
I now ask for things
that are neither purchasable,
or easily constructed.
It is unlike love to be found
in the aisle of a shopping outlet,
beside Christmas toffees
and beverages. The want
for romantic companionship
is an ask not easily answered,
although obtaining something
so beautiful would be easier
granted than world peace.
When we are young, money
is the sole requirement
for obtaining our heart’s desires,
but once aged, like a fine liquor,
bills and coins become obsolete,
for our wishes can only
ever be granted by other means.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa, I am uncertain
if I want to believe in you
this year. You have granted
to me in the past many a gift,
which I did watch, read,
listen to or wear, but never
have I received anything
that’s me; the me that
remains unseen within the
chasm of my heart, burried
under the bulk of year’s
which have rendered me
forgotten. I know that I’m
an unlovable fool for
believing in the semantics
of wishful romantic
promises which my
undying soul breathes life
into almost every year, but,
although I know this is an
impossible ask, might you
kindly give to me this
Christmas Eve someone to
wholly love, who shall
happily love me back? Too
often have I been told how
I am destined to sometime
soon find the woman of
my dreams, an action I do
realise shall never come to
pass this day or any that
will follow, and with a
heart that can remain
lonely not a moment more,
I ask that you consider
this to be my only
Christmas wish. I am sure
you know the identity of
the young damsel who
has captivated me, and I
am certain you have her
number, so would you
kindly give her a ring for
me and discover if she’s
available?

A Regretful Christmas

Once upon a time I thought I knew you; just as I believed that you knew me.
I thought you and I were destined for a relationship that was meant to be.
This animalistic predator was on the prowl
for you. Ma’am, did you hear that cry, did you hear that howl?
I fear this area is no longer safe for your heart to linger in
because of the damage I could do when my heart is corrupted with sin
and lustful pleasure whenever you happened to be near.
When cometh the season of gift giving and Christmas cheer
I wish upon a star that all my dreams come true. I place your name upon my Christmas list
and hope you are chaperoned to my room by eight reindeer, because if Santa does exist,
he,  and he alone, would know my heart’s ambitions, and is the only one in all the world with the gift to allow
my dreams to come to fruition, for I need you today like oxygen and liquid, and must be with you right now.

I’ve never seen a beauty like yours; never met a woman who was so sublime.
I fell for you so easily and wished to be your rememberable first time.
Instead, you go gallivanting up and down the street
making love to almost every single man you meet
and never have I been lucky enough to be such a man.
I thought I could conceive a romance; I thought I had a plan
which would inevitably lead to making you mine.
We’d have an exquisite feast; a sweet bottle of wine
as well, to compliment the beginning of a romance made in Heaven above
and by the end of the dinner, you and I would be undeniably in love.
However, this fantasy of mine is nothing more than a dream, and dreams are never real,
and even though it’s Christmas, the agony of not being with you is all I ever feel.