Cousin Willy
We used to go to grandma’s for Christmas
She had bubble lights on her tree
Dangerous ones that will burn your fingers
We all learned it the hard way
We had one cousin who was awkwardly mean
Everyone did their best to make him happy
Willy was an unhappy guy; we finally learned to leave him alone
Because he liked being a bully
Many Christmas days we visited Willy in prison after we were grown
I thought it was a waste of my time; he did not seem to want us there.
But after our grandparents died, I continued to go
Because I wanted to please them and I knew they knew I was there.
Willy never changed; he was surly and bad-tempered.
After awhile I stopped going on Christmas, because it made me sad.
But I did go once a month, because I felt sorry for him.
Incarcerated for fifty years must have been hard.
Sadly, he deserved it though.
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