The Package
There was a package on my doorstep,
Packed in red plastic,
Like a sex victim still fresh of crime.
And as my door opened,
Step by step,
And I unwraped the elastic,
To find nothing but wasted time.
Some coated feathers wraped in leather,
Another useless christmas present.
So I throw it in my closet,
And wait for little rabbits,
To steal it from there,
And hide it under my bed,
where from there it would be used as a sled,
for unwanted children.
Thats what happens when I get a bad deal
My clothes all go to good will.