To work i go in the cold cold snow.
Through rain and sleet I'm dead on my
feet. I pick up trash and make some cash to pay the bills oh what a thrill.
Pay day is here i jump in my car.
Cash my check and head off to the bar a pack of smokes and some ice cold beer then drive on home for some holiday cheer.
The Christmas season gives my spirits a lift i dig through a dumpster
for a special gift wrap it up in a brown paper sack tie a shoestring in a bow
put it on the back use duck tape and
glue to make it look neat a gift like
that can't be beat.
I'll give it to my boss expecting his praise as he opens it up I'll ask for a raise .
He stares at my gift with tears in his eyes his face is red it made his blood pressure rise it wasn't what he wanted
inside of the box only a pair of old secondhand socks it's not that I'm cheap I'm really quite nice but the gift
Was a bargain at just the right price
money is short and times are hard i
can't afford a Christmas card.
I wrote this poem so you'll understand
just what it's like to be a poor man.
I need this job along with the pay so
I'll come to work on Christmas day
Written by
Linda Weatherspoon
2009
©Michael We
M