The Man Behind The Christmas Tree 12/15/07

It is pitch dark in the room where we will open our
presents on Christmas day,
in the corner stands our tree,theres a gap where he
stands,across his chest is his hands,
gazing at me while I try to fall asleep,
inside my head is raging screams,
begging me deathly not to weep,I lay there still as still
can stay,
my lungs harden up like stiffen clay,
the way the atmosphere is made,
it feels as if he made a deal,a deal to kill whoever he
feels,the presence of the devil and what he might do,
you wish that moment you were not there,pretending
that when your not looking your not aware,
he knows,he knows that your aware,he saw you staring
at his glare when time passes,you drift away,
with sleepy mind,hoping soon he'll go away,he's there every Christmas,until that tree is chunked out the door.
Is this your imagination? or Is it true? Is it the tree? or
Is it the devils deal to kill?