I'll explain later...

a poem, about gifts. I'm working on something rather lengthy right now. [oh...yeah, I am feeling more "me". My stomach is settling, I have 3 days left till the pills are gone!]

Real Gifts

Birthdays

And Christmas

I get gifts

On these days

I must make a list

Of “what I want”

So I might receive

Some of these things

Books

Music

Art

Tools to fix things

Things that need tools

Just to put them together

Out for dinner

Perhaps a movie

A long walk

A fruitful talk

A scenic view

Enjoyed by few

But…

Lately…

I can’t seem to make

Long lists

Like I used to

…

Truth is

You can’t buy

What I want

They don’t sell it

That’s ok

…I couldn’t afford it anyway

The things I’ll get

Nice as they will be

[cannot add up, to you & me]

They are “post it” notes

As far as I can see

Reminders

That you love me

Sometimes

I cannot imagine

Why

…but I cannot

Imagine

Living

Without it

You will ask me again

This year

[and soon, now, I know]

“What do you want

For your birthday?”

Really

Honestly

I know it’s hard

For you to believe

I know

You don’t think it’s much

But

All

I want

Is you

by brian n.