Santa

They don’t tell you Santa isn’t real.

They know he is a myth;

they know of the tales,

but they don’t tell you.

They want you to find out for yourself.

Everything’s a myth and a tale.

Everything’s something you have to believe in

until you believe in it no more.

Until you learn to give up the lie,

you are living in it.

So what of the ones who never stop believing?

What of the ones who wait on Christmas still bereaving?

What of the years that go by and the age of ignorance?

When are you too old for lies?

Why is it okay to lie to the child and not the grown man?

What of the children whose parents never told them

of a fat, jolly man who raids their homes and leaves some gifts

that are made in China?

Do they have Christmas?

They don’t tell you Santa isn’t real,

but the moment you believe too long,

you are banished from the world of faith and joy

and pulled into the realm of reality.

How scary it is to believe an ounce too long.

How scary it is to lie to a child and expect them to figure it out.

How scary it is to believe that they will figure it out.

How scary it is to believe.

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