Monday, December 21, 2009
“Twas the day before, the day before, the day before, the day
I was hoping to get shopping done and have a bit of play.
But the sales rep wanted cash and my card was all I had.
So I lost the precious treasures and found myself quite sad.
The hours spent to find my gifts meant nothing in the end.
If only they had held my gifts ‘til cash I brought to them.
But no; they sought to sell the very items that I loved.
Pray tell, was that the manager that gave me a hearty shove?
Out through the door, onto to the street I stood and waved my arms,
In desperate wail and raising hell, I promised them alarm.
I struck a match and pitched it toward the carts that stood nearby
~And laughed when they first cuffed me, then off to my jail ride.
Tonight would be a good night, and hopefully all week
I’ll stay in jail for burning carts and searing shoppers’ feet.
On Christmas Day when ham is served, I’ll smile and cheer them on
~And celebrate my gifting freedom, with every Christmas song.