Dear Santa

Dear Santa is a poem I wrote for a middle school newspaper.  They always held writing contests for the holidays and I was flourishing in my advanced writing classes, so my teacher encouraged me to enter.  I always enjoyed moving the hearts of my readers, so I wrote a letter to Santa:

Dear Santa,

 

I’m crying on the inside,

It’s Christmas time again.

There was a time I was happy,

But I can’t remember when.

 

Every year I make a list,

There’s just one thing that I need.

“Can you give me what I ask?”

With you I always plead.

 

Johnny got a tricycle,

And he was bad all year.

I have been a good little boy,

But my voice you just can’t hear.

 

How can you overlook me?

I just don’t think it’s fair.

Drive your sleigh right past my house,

As though I’m not even there.

 

You usually were real good to me,

With the great presents that you brought.

Until one day when I messed up,

You haven’t given me a second thought.

 

Mommy and daddy were yelling,

I hated to see them fight.

I went to my room and hid,

And cried to myself all night.

 

I must have done something wrong,

Even though I was never bad.

When I finally fell asleep,

I woke up without a dad.

 

Christmas time is coming,

But it will never be the same.

I really miss my daddy,

And I have myself to blame.

 

I hope you get this letter,

Please don’t send me any toys.

I just don’t feel like playing,

With the other girls and boys.

 

I want a simple present,

Just a whisper in my ear.

My daddy saying I love you,

Is all I want this year.

 

~Zero Ehxe

 

Everyone cried reading my letter and asking if my father left us.  He didn’t, but I have a mental disorder called “Schizoid Personality Disorder” where I don’t feel emotions like other people.  Normal people can feel “happiness” on a scale from 1-100.  They can feel “sad” from 1-100.  Or scared or bored or a myriad of other emotions.  A schizoid person’s emotional growth is stunted, and they can only feel emotions at a range of 1-5.  I never get sad even when my relatives die.  I could win the lottery and not feel true happiness like you would.  There’s nothing in the world I am truly afraid of either.  But because I only understand emotions on a logical level, I am very good at manipulating them in others, a skill I exercise through writing.

By the way, I won the school newspaper contest with my entry.

 

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