Christmas Poem

 Every once in a while I get bit by the poetry bug and so I write a bit of it. This poem came to me one cold winters day, when it struck me that no one really looked at Christmas Eve, from the Reindeer's point of view.  So I thought about it, and this is what I found out. Santa really should have been more considerate of his Reindeer.                          

The Historical Truth Of What Happened To Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas and out in the snow,
the Reindeer were freezing, 'twas forty below.
Their breath came in shivers, sent sleigh-bells a tinkling,
but what happened next Santa hadn't an inkling.
He'd gone down a chimney, his usual voice merry,
but Dasher was fed up, the others mad, very!!!
When Santa'd come back, once more covered in soot,
the deer kicked him over and gave him the boot.
They said they were sick, of this over-fed troll,
that was suited in red and lived at the North Pole.
Who ate endless cookies and drank endless cream,
who grew ever fatter and broader of beam.
It was really too much, that he sat by the fire,
then told them to fly ever faster and higher.
Well the final straw, was that very same night,
when they'd ask for a raise, he'd said, "It wasn't right.
They should give of themselves for the girls and the boys,
and freely deliver the sleigh full of toys."
Well that pissed them off, they had, had quite enough,
pulling this fat guys sleigh full of stuff.
So they tore off their traces, their voices weren't merry,
they called him a nasty, fat, fumble bum fairy.
They said,"You pull the sleigh, all alone Christmas nights,
'cause working for you all these years really bites."
Then they took to the air, and they flew right away,
which is why all our gifts come from stores, to this day.