You are a poet lacking poetry
A composer who never penned a symphony
A clown plagued by misery
A broadcast not shown on T.V

A duck pond missing mallard mates
A panda without panda traits
A perfectionist who makes mistakes
A pacifist who fights and hates
_

The word springs from my mouth
Lips part just like blades
Tongue bounces north then south

Scissors was the first word
My infantile-self uttered
Since that day, my vocab
Has grown increasingly cluttered

Using my favoured blades
I resign to cut a few
But Scissors, sacred Scissors
I shall never sever you

When something snaps
The ****** all bolt
Dogs out the traps
We all collapse
Down the plughole
Like turned on taps
Jaded expats
Bourbon, poker
All throw craps
Black top hats
Line the road
Like mourning bats
Marital spats
Crystal prisms
Where love refracts
Wear navy slacks
Stare out to sea
As mars attacks
Nightmares hide facts
Flattened like focaccia
Under fifteen all-blacks
Fuss over Goldman sachs
You know we only blink
When it's the shirt on our backs

I, dressed in the shade of an overdue bill
Sat with my sack and a hat with white frill
Awe on small faces as they all filed in
Fake white hair on my lip above a beaming grin

William was his name, thin and pale
With eyes so wide from watching bread turn stale
As I called out his name and pulled out a box
He shook and came forward, black shoes, white socks

Merry Christmas, I boomed , I hear you’ve been a good boy
Inside this box hides a fantastic toy
He took the gift from me, staring in awe
He leant in to my ear, on tiptoe, heels leaving the floor

‘I love you Santa’ he whispered

A new arrival sends him itching
To drag open the drapes his fingers are twitching
He benchmarks the day as they come and they go
From window-framed photos
Stories of his own

Relays the album, day after day
Till the thought becomes fact, he can’t shoo away
It bothers him and blights him
The ****** won’t quit
Till he retakes his throne at the curtain slit