Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Nothing was stirring, not even a mouse.
Lo! What’s that noise, someone quietly sobbing?
An interloper sat beside Santa’s fire
while he’s gone a-jobbing.
Stop this silly iambic pentameter; kids don’t go for that anymore you say!
“What’s wrong dear lady, why the tears?”
Fat, hot blobs run down her cheeks (and a fair bit of snot too, but we’re too polite to say).