True Story the Gift

The Gift Years ago, as I was making a gift For a teacher who’s special to me I was preparing an old tin can For the spelling, that had to be key A place for her pencils and pens I wanted to label it “TRASHCAN” Since my spelling was never quite perfect That's where, my troubles began Tried as I might, it was never quite right I might've as well reached for the stars I knew that it had, a T and an A But I wasn’t quite sure about R So I quietly sought out a counsel A person both trusted and sure Then, while turning the knob ever slowly I carefully pushed open the door But my mom, after working all night Was lying down resting her head In a half awake fashion, not sharing my passion She agreed with my spelling instead I was proud of what I’d accomplished A joke both clever and witty But, do to the lack of one letter My triumph transformed into pity As I presented my teacher the gift I held out the can with pride Said “Now you have something that'll hold, your pens and your pencils inside” Imagine at my disappointment When My teacher began to laugh As she read it out clear for the whole class to hear The word on the can was spelled “TASH” Now I know, I was just a young student And I know, this was years in the pass But once in a while I recall as a child, the first time I felt like an ASH