I wrote this poem a few years ago. It’s one of my favorites:
‘Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
Every creature was lurking, preying on my spouse.
The bodies were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that old Santa could add to the pair.
I in my bed, with my wife by my side,
Her insides are out, while I wait for her to die.
The kids, all dead, with blood in their beds,
While visions of nothing crawl in their heads.
There’s blood by the tree, and heads around gifts-
I’m the only one alive, and not chopped to bits.
‘Poor Santa’, I thought as I ate off his flesh
Those poor kids; no presents left.
So I put on Santa’s suit, with it drenched in blood.
And climbed up the chimney, each foot one by one.
And there they were! All of the Reindeer!
I was so happy I could die! And then started to cheer!
I stepped in the sleigh, and let out a big yell:
‘I’m Santa now! You can all die in hell!’
I renamed the reindeer, because they’re all mine
Because these ‘mystical creatures’ are nothing but swine.
On Satan, on Jason, on Freddy and Scythe!
On Machete, on saw, on Blood and Butcher knife!
But there was one missing, seems he escaped from the pack
These poor silly reindeer, don’t know what’s in store, next.
I pulled on the reins, and away they flew;
I left a present in each house that I knew.
In each dreadfully wrapped box,
Lays a severed head that I’ve kept away, locked.
I’ve collected these heads for a night like this
Where I become Santa; my utter complete bliss.
Now I’m in charge of everything in site
I can eat all the elves, and the eggnog, I will spike!
So, you better be good, and asleep in your bed
Or else for this Christmas, you’ll be getting a head.