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
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