This is why I hate holidays:
Christmas,
My birthday.
Filled with high hopes,
All shattered.
Any other day -
I am happy, shocked
To receive,
But when the day comes -
What about me?
I'm forgotten.
Always want to buy, but never given
Anything.
Do not get me anything.
Always give, but never receive.
This year, will be different:
In full swing,
I will only give everything
To my
Famed Wolf
YOU ARE READING
Poems of the Dearest Soul
PuisiPoems of the Dearest Soul. Eccentric. Makes your heart melt. These Poems and short stories are all what you need during your off time. Romance. Suicide. Adventure. Realistic Fiction. Any genre known to man (or woman) Comment what other poem you wa...
