I know you're such a busy man,
with so many needs to meet.
To organize Christmas the way you do,
is such an amazing feat.

I do not need a bag of toys,
or a stocking filled with fruit.
No candy canes or choo choo trains,
or a B B gun to shoot.

I do not need a Sega game,
or a puppy to lick my face.
No Barbie Dolls or basketballs,
no cars that I can race.

I do not need a rope to skip,
or a trampoline to jump.
No bike to ride or plane to glide,
or movie of Forrest Gump

I do not need a T.V. set,
or a jam box for my room.
No old cassettes or Chia pets,
no video games of Doom.

My request is but a simple one,
though strange I must admit.
For just one day, I'd love to bathe,
in the praises that you get.

My Birthday falls on Christmas Day,
but no one has a clue.
They forget my birth, upon this earth,
and all praises go to you.

I have always taken a backrow seat,
as my Birthday rolls around.
As old Saint Nick, begins to click,
I keep on losing ground.

But Santa, I know it's not your fault,
that my people turn to you.
Instead of their King, your praises they sing,
so what's a Messiah to do.

So if you don't mind, Dear Santa Claus,
please give me a day of thrills.
Just one day of praise and all of the craze,
just to know how it feels.

Your Dear Friend
Jesus Christ