From many a child I often hear
A question one would think I’d fear.
So inquisitive their minds
So bright their eyes
I’d never be a party
to feeding them lies?

“Santa are you real?” they ask and ask.
Answering each in earnest is monumental task!
Driven like a race car
Persistent – oh they are –
They whisper in my ear…
They shout it from afar!

Santa are you real or NOT?
My friends all say you’re fake!

Please answer me — once and for all
Answer NOW, for Christmas sake!
Well I answer the question
From my quiet home
With another question that’s not even my own:
If I’m not real…
Then who wrote this poem?

It’s the SPIRIT you see
That makes Santa “BE”
And certainly now,
While that SPIRIT’s in ME

I AM the Real Santa

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