Santa - The accused.

This is a poem i wrote for a writing competition at my school, and i won! :D just thought i'd share. i know it's not Christmas but hey ho.


1. Santa - The accused

Jury be seated, court is now in session. We haven’t succeeded to gain a confession. And therefore we must put this case back on trial. I admit, I’ve not seen one like this  in a while.

The victim, Jim Jones, the crime? Kidnapping. The theory, that while his elves were busy gift wrapping,

Saint Nick himself kidnapped a small boy, In a terrible, evil, and self-centred ploy.


Jim Jones’ statement is received by the jury. Each member expressed their obvious fury.

Now I will make a final demand. For the defence,

 Santa to the stand.


I’m not guilty of this crime! This entire trial is a waste of my time!


Please be seated, Mr Claus. If needed, we will use force with due cause.

I see that you are, well, less than contrite. Please give an account of what happened that night.


I refuse to believe you believe this boy Jim! The evilness in his own  nature is grim.

Now I will prove his accusations lies! To listen to him would be more than unwise!

It was Christmas Eve. 10pm to be exact. I was riding in my sleigh, that much was a fact.

I landed on the roof of the house of Jim Jones. I struggled down the chimney…… wide hipbones!


Breaking and entering is also a crime. If this story is true, you’ll serve double time!

I ate all the biscuits, drank some warm milk.

You stole too! I’m disgusted by those of your ilk!

Then I heard footsteps padding down the hall, I threw down the presents, which were far from small!

Made a run for the chimney, but he was too quick! He saw, then hit me on the head with a brick!

That’s rubbish.

I’ll never believe it.

It’s true!

If you’ll listen a moment I’ll explain it to you!

I was knocked out cold, he grabbed me by the beard! Honestly though it was worse than I feared.

He entered the basement, threw me to the floor, followed in behind me and padlocked the door.

He strapped me to a chair with cables and rope, I came to, head hung low, and started to mope.

He pulled on my moustache, cut up my hair, my trousers and coat he did wrangle and tear.

My attacker, this monster, then stood there and grinned. Joyous at the fact that he had just sinned.

I looked up at his face and asked him why. Why would he do this to me - a nice guy!?

He said I was evil, that I deserved this. That I owed him something… what did I miss?

I’d never even met him.

‘What do I owe you!?’

He spoke calmly, rehearsed.

‘You owe me a shoe.’

Preposterous! An outrage! I won’t believe a word! Nothing but lies! That’s what I just heard!

Why would a shoe cause such a big mess!?

He began to explain before I could guess.

One Christmas ago he wished for a toy: A typical wish for a nine year old boy.

When Christmas morn came, he opened his gift. A small fluffy creature which nibbled and sniffed.

I had sent him a puppy, much to his surprise. The stepping stone, leading to my own demise…

He cuddled the puppy, stroked its warm fur, then it suddenly morphed into a small saboteur.

It hopped from his lap, ran round the house, ripping up presents, tormenting Jim’s mouse.

It ripped open stockings, pinching warm food. Malted its fur onto grandma’s new snood.

When the puppy had finished it fled out the door, over the fence, to be seen never more.

Amidst all the chaos, Jimmy’s new shoes :

 they had shiny new laces and were polished suede blues.

One of them was lost, supposedly bitten. By the puppy extreme... the Bain of Great Britain.

The shoe was never seen again, and therefore, started jimmy’s campaign

He had waited and waited, just until next year. He kidnapped me! Me do you hear!?

I refused him the shoe and he called the feds. They took me away, gave me some meds.

He lied to them all, saying id done the crime.


And quick as a flash we were at present time.


.The Jury sat, shocked. Mouths gaped and eyes bulged. In horror at the information Santa divulged.

The defence’s final statement, ‘He’s Santa for Christ’s sake!’ Suddenly made the jury fully awake.

They went away to discuss their verdict, In experience, this was the hardest to predict.

Believe Santa, and his tale of Jim’s crime, Or Jimmy, and Saint Nick will serve double time... ~

After hours of waiting, the jury return. Santa’s expression: stiffened and stern.

The jury say ‘Not guilty’ And Santa flew. A puppy in his place. Eating a shiny, blue, shoe. 

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