Under the christmas tree, Santa Claus lays the presents. He glances around warily For unwanted watchers. He sees a child, Staring at him. At him? No, not at him. Through him. This child doesn't see him, For seeing is believing. And the child does not believe. Too late he relizes what is happening; Too late, as the tree topples down upon him. He lays there, Imploring the child to see, To believe. It is no use. He crumbles slowly into soot.
No one believes. The bagel shops decree seamless conventions, Watering thrice the lost souls committee. Now I am a human; I will get to where i am going. There is no time for such things As toy cars. They all know A bold act is to trust.