7 days before these part of the world jumps into another year,
The scents of the festivity were already fuming with so much ease.
6 in the morning yet the congregation of fire woods heating up the  pot of yam was nothing rare,
With the church  flagged all red and white it was obvious that the season was hIs.
5 of us each went into the curtained alter behind which was Santa who had plenty bears and fake blonde hair,‎
It was my first time seeing one and I could feel my eyes freeze.
4 a very long while my face twisted in disgust as I could not help but stare,‎
I was scared of the fact that my father might have lied to me about who father Christmas really is.
He poked me closer and I noticed his black skin colour through his left ear,‎
My expectation of a white Santa clause crushed even more when he placed his black lips to my cheek for a kiss.‎

He brought out something from the lot that his bag constitute,
And gave me a pack of wrapped chocolate cheese.
3 years from my teenage; I was none the wiser and I still wanted to believe my dad's truth,
Not until the whizz ling spree of a wild harmattan breeze.
His fake white bears separated from his chin and covered his dirty set of clumsy tooth,
If there was any error left on Christmas day then upon me it release.

As he struggled to put the bears back on, 
2 writs of dusty arousal came upon his face as he was about to hunch out some irritants from his nose,
His face became blunt like one with a cold disease.
‎And now I could see his true black complexion,‎
Out of a beautiful day; great disappointments arose,
1 thing was left to be said here to for not to ruin my day "Santa please don't sneeze

Really bro. Dnt prick my art with bet slips