My Dad Won the Lottery
My dad won the lottery Sultan announces to his third-grade class.
There are gasps all around, the other eight-year-olds are amazed.
How much? One of the brighter youngsters’ yells.
“Six billion or more,” he says giving a flashy wave.
“Want to come to my birthday party?” ask another bright lightbulb.
“When is it?”
“Next Saturday, all the other kids are invited.”
The teacher says nothing.
“We are buying a mansion,” Sultan tells his classmates.
“I get to design my own room.”
His family is perhaps the poorest family in the school.
They have several children, and they are in transition aka homeless.
The teacher continues working on their gift baskets.
Understanding that sometimes the poorest children have the largest stories.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
