If I were Santa, these are what I’d do:
Dump silly gifts that were given to you,
Deliver some things outside your door,
Things you have lost, but treasured before.
I’d give you back all your maidenly vigor,
And to go along with it, a neat tiny figure,
Restore the color that graced your hair,
Before rinses and bleaches resided there.
I’d bring back the shape you were gifted,
Things now suspended would be uplifted,
I’d draw in your tummy and your back,
You’d be like a dream in that fitting slack.
I’d remove your wrinkles, leave only a chin,
You would not rub grease on your skin,
You’d never have flashes or dizzy spells,
You wouldn’t hear strange noises like bells.
There would be no aching feet and no corns on your toes,
No searching for spectacles when they’re right on your nose.
Not a shot would you take in your arm, hip or fanny,
From a doctor who thinks you’re a nervous old granny.
You’d never have a headache, so no pills would you take.
No heating pad needed since your muscles won’t ache.
If I were Santa, you’d never look stupid,
You’d be cute with the romance of a cupid,
I’d lift your heart when it begins to whistle,
Your heart would be just light as a thistle.
Alas, I’m not Santa. I’m simply just me,
The randomest of randoms you’d ever see.
I wish I could tell you the demons I’ve got,
But I’m due at my doctor’s for a shot.
Even though I’ve got flaws, this wish is sincere,
Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New Year.