Poor Santa’s Dilemma

The following poem is a guest post by

Barbara Sheerin


‘Twas the night before Christmas, Santa’s a wreck;

Living in a world – politically correct . . .

No longer calling his employees — his “Elves”

“Vertically challenged” they are stocking his shelves.


Equal opportunity, it’s perfectly clear,

He had to stop using “just” tiny reindeer.

Dasher, Dancer, Comet, sweet little Cupid

Replaced by four pigs (which really looked stupid)


Half his reindeer now gone – – along with his wife

Who had quite enough of his strange little life.

She joined a self-help group, caught on in a whiz.

His wife now demanded . . . her title was “Ms.”


To make matters worse, in his life’s ebbs and flows,

Rudolf is suing . . . for use of his red nose.

Metal runners must be removed from his sleigh–

They’re deemed too dangerous by the E.P.A.


And, as for the gifts . . . he never had a notion

The toys he would bring would cause a commotion.

Nothing made of leather, nothing made of fur

Nothing soft for him, and nothing pretty for her.


Nothing to aim, for little boys like to shoot

Nothing at all that might possibly pollute.

Nothing that could be called “gender specific.”

Nothing that’s warlike or non – pacifistic.


He cannot bring candy . . . now banned are all sweets

Forbid chocolate chip cookies, cakes, other treats.

No baseballs or footballs, someone could get hurt.

Playing such sports exposes kids to the dirt.


Dolls . . .  considered sexist, will soon be passé;

And Nintendo’s surely rot kid’s brains away.

Poor Santa stood there, downhearted — so perplexed;

He just could not figure what he could do next.


He tried to be merry; and he tried to be gay–

(You have to be careful with that word today)

And . . . so he exclaimed as he rode out of sight,

Enjoy your “Holiday”. . . I’m quitting tonight!

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