A Revolutionary Christmas
It was a week before Christmas
He knew many kids were about to receive presents
Didn’t care too much for Sing-Alongs
Rather obsessed about Mr. Benjamin,
And his flock of Dead Presidents,
Living among the outcasts
Most couldn’t grasp how his daily went,
He was only 15 years old,
Already prepping for content of execution
‘Cause he resented his present sleeping tent
With no loving parents
Just a distant memory and a vague scent,
Through the cold days and nights
He planned every scenario possibly to circumvent,
He was scared for his life but had to be strong
Couldn’t relent under pressure
He hated to see these happy spoiled brats with their gold
‘Cause he too wanted his own treasure,
Like the pirate that he was
He sought out other aggressors
They planned to stand tall at a mall
To see if there would be any holiday gestures
With caps in their hand bracing the cold weather,
The patrons came and went
Putting a dagger through their endeavor,
Not wanting to pester,
Or be anyone’s jester
He understood that he had to one up and
better their adventure,
He was hungry for respect
His appetite was growling to take more of a drastic measure,
Being on the lower end of the spectrum
He’s all too familiar with people
Living arrogantly with an abundance of pleasures,
They couldn’t give a damn about the less fortunate
However,
His purpose now was clear, and it was all coming together
The texture of the lever was smooth and its design was very clever
His initial plan was written in Braille
Where only the blind can transcribe
the contents of his unfinished letter.
Copyright © Remi Stan | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment