Long has it been since the tale has been told,
Of the Shadow of Hupemas, The Santy of old.
No not the one with the red rosy cheeks
On commercials & boxes with cola chilled cold.
Back in the ages, before NFTs,
When the children still knew they shouldn’t be naughty,
When the spirit of Hupemas was still in their hearts,
And it wasn’t about “big present give to me!”
But when the true spirit had long been forgotten,
Returned a dark one a reminder so rotten,
The coldest of winters that took all one loved,
including the newest of gifts they’ve just gotten.
For all little ones who just couldn’t resist,
Have earned their own spot on the old naughty list,
As punishment into a sac they’ll be stuffed, as a sacrifice,
Oh yes they’ll surely be missed.
They thought being naughty was fun and okay,
Until their time came on a cold frightful day,
They saw red and felt dread from their toes to their head,
And they weren’t seen again, or so the legends say...
