Too Good To Check Poem by michael spangenberg

When a news item first appears on the Internet And the level of irony (or poetic justice) is so great That one has the feeling that the story may, in Fact, be fictitious. However, one is reluctant to Spoil the fun by actually attempting to verify it.

When you get to those pearly gates, you tell 'em You're Santa's No.1 elf, and I know St Peter will Let you in, Charles Marx, a well-known Santa in the Area thanks to his jolly frame and impeccably Groomed white beard, recalled telling the boy.

It was a story during the festive season even in a post-truth society
many wanted to believe: a terminally Ill child gets his last wish to see Santa
and with speechless peace of mind, dies in the good man's arms
To go strait to the stairways of Heaven

What do professional journalists do when their Mum says 'I love you'? Exactly, they start to Verify, corroborate and authenticitate, check out The nitty-gritty (or to that effect) gruesome details Through credible, independent sources.

CNN called all local children hospitals, none could Confirm the account. Coroner's office was unable To provide information without a name. A search
Of obituaries in the newspapers did not yield Conclusive proof - confirming or refuting.

We can't establish it's untrue, but more importantly so, ongoing reporting can't establish it's accurate, We no longer stand by the veracity of the account, The fact-finding journalists say - The story wasn't Any longer mum's darn good turkey soup.