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Christmas Pud And Brats!The grotto standing proud, The children screaming loud, Santa as drunk as a skunk, Chatting to a green haired punk! Mums demented and all forlorn, Nerves frayed and tattered and worn! The fathers standing idly by! While mothers cope with kids who cry! Christmas Eve and all's not well! The kids are giving their parents hell! Wanting this and wanting that, Eating Christmas pud and being a brat! Lights all twinkling and beaming away, Waiting for the wonder of Christmas day! The choir singing all gathered together, Braving the cold and windy weather! Shopping trolley's full of nice food to eat! Pudding, pies and cakes for a treat! Pop and juice and sherry too! Crackers to pull for me and you! Christmas Eve's almost at an end! The last days of shopping, no more to spend! Time to go home and wait for Santa Clause, Home to the warm glow, of the fire indoors! Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem |
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