One thing I always despised was
when I woke up and saw under that tree
those damn boxes on Christmas day. Tell me
where on my Christmas List did I write that
I wanted a pair of jeans, socks, and shirts?
I wanted the gun to go with Duck hunt.
Instead, I got a blue and white sweatshirt that
my mom got. What am I supposed
to do with this? And am I the only one that
was embarrassed whenever I’d find a pair
of underwear that I would never wear
in a lifetime. I could hang myself with
all the tight whites.
I wanted my video games.
I wanted my board games, my action figures and marbles.
Instead I got stuff that I would only
stuff into a closet and never see again.
I’d rather just have a lump of coal.
That way, I could throw it at something
and have some sort of fun, or maybe even
retribution. I could throw it at someone, like a
a bully who thinks he’s better than me and
believes he can pick on me when he can.
Maybe a teacher who gave me a bad grade
or maybe a neighbor who gave me a hard
time. That’s better than any pair of shirts.
I hated getting clothes on Christmas day.
Now that I’m older and don’t have time
for my games. I just need clothes.