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Anti ClausYou already know about an old gentleman named St. Nick. Most of us await Christmas Day for his great gifts, Except for the naughty, who, giftless will wail. Few of you know the rest of the tale. He had a brother named Nicholby but he wasn't a saint. To use some slang, he was everything Santa Claus ain't. He is Anti Claus; it's not gifts he leaves but it's your gifts that he relieves. Usually your toy he will just take. Sometimes he'll throw it and watch it break. He comes without warning and on no special day. About all in common with his brother is he drives a sleigh. His sleigh is pulled by thirty rein bats. It even has wheels because there's no snow where's he's at. He lives in a cave in the deep South. Not the country America but the continent's mouth. He is attired in a flimsy and striking black suit. He ‘ll come straight through the door to avoid soot. To look at him, you'd say he's not of Santa's ilk. No one will leave for him all those cookies and milk. He acts like this because he's jealous of his brother Even though treated equally well by their mother. He gets a special glee from tormenting young tikes And swoops down from the sky and steals their new bikes. When you find a toy suddenly broken in pieces And no one will admit it even your nieces Then you know Anti Claus has come to ruin your toy Because making you sad gives him great joy. It's too easy for him to grab toys when thrown on the ground He'll dart in and out when no one's around. Some toys he'll take back to his cave And give to his trolls who smash every way. The best way to avoid Anti Claus from destroying your stuff Is to put it away properly and keep your room cleaned up. Mean Nicholby enjoys breaking all laws which is why he's called ole Anti Claus. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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