Wings of a Wayward Elf
Santa wept a tear for me
and promised me an apple tree
a flea, a ski, a sacred bee
so many things he promised me
He offered me so many things
and stated that my fairy wings
would wash away on Christmas night
to hinder me from further flight
"To fly is not a natural thing"
his vile plot-a deadly sting
a Christian girl must walk on earth
to prove to him her holy worth
I prayed for him my soul to keep
from things that bite me in my sleep
my fairy wings I stored away
and hid from him until today
A sound that woke me from my rest
revealed a fat man in his jest
a ghastly tear of blood so red
I wished to see that fat man dead
Beneath my window where they lay
I found my wings in disarray
a feather missing from the crest
a teardrop falling to my chest
Destroyed and raped, my livelihood
condemned to eat my weight in "good"
upon the earth, my prison cell
a fairy-no-an angel fell
I looked into his vicious eyes
and asked him how a Christian dies
of rescue from his righteous plight
if not from lack of childish flight
I reached for him and tried to tear
away his soft and noble hair
he reached for me "his wayward sheep"
and tried my fairy wings to reap
"Thou shall not fly on fairy wings"
that jolly fat man often sings
I spit on Santa Claus today
for trying to take my wings away.
Wings of a Wayward Sheep - Poetry Index
