He had a blackened beard he was
Out of his face,
On his sledge adorned with the
Flayed skin of those on the
List, those deemed unworthy for
The gifts to bring this night,
Those houses with no
To line his stomach, from the offerings
Of 40% alcohol that fuelled his laughter,
Vomiting induced from heights, over
Killed from frozen missiles of *****
From above high,
He would sneak upon those
"In the eyes of children"
He would never harm an
With love, but the naughty list
"Wasn't of children"
It was parents unjust,
"Against those unable to defend themselves"
He was the protector
Of the innocent ones
The elves would hold the parents down
As Serial Santa
Shouted out the charges, so each was heard
Ears bleed as his voice pierced sound,
He would be the
"For their time was coming to an end"
Spat in his face,
He would go in his black bag
And from nowhere,
"A sound proof room for justice"
Was to be served as children
"Where not to be disturbed"
As parents screamed out,
He had finished flayed bodies
Disappeared within his black sack
"The odd finger picked up"
Used as a toothpick to get
Flesh stuck between teeth out,
"But what about the children you say"
"They were fine"
"Never woke, slept in peace"
"I don't ****** parents for fun"
"I get a little satisfaction"
"From them coming to their deserved end"
"Thousands in these hundreds of years"
"Dispatched in to the bag, still not full"
"After so many kills through the years"
"Cloning is the way forward"
"Been pioneers in this for hundreds of years"
New parents for a new day the best present
A serial Santa could give,
H A P P Y C H R I S T M A S P A R E N T S
Prey that your nice, for I **** for the
Children, they deserve *better in life,