I sit and listen to those lists being read out loud.
Ours are not the same. No similarities can be found.
I-pods, lap-tops, toys, stuffed animals, clothes all new.
If they only had an idea of the pain, struggle, hunger. I wish they had a clue.
I want and give me, no use of the word please.
On my list I beg, I cry, I bleed, even plead.
They want extravagant trips and foreign foods galore.
My family and I ate jelly donuts for a week…once more.
Now they are done and sit waiting for my turn.
My throat dry and heart stopped, I’m hot, on fire I feel like I can burn.
I rise and walk to the front of the class. I want to race out the front door.
I stay and decide my list will teach. I turn to face them and my feet become glued to the floor.
As I begin to read…My List for Santa
Santa these things I beg for, none are for me.
Please still come even though we don’t have a tree.
My sister would like a blanket because she really is cold at night.
And my brother doesn’t want much, just to see so give him some sight.
My mother is only looking for a job.
If you can throw some her way then she can stop her sobs.
Well, my father isn’t around.
Maybe a map so he knows where we can be found.
As for me, I’m fine. I have my blanket as a pillow so I can lay my head down.
A roof over my head were we feel safe and sound.
Donuts aren’t so bad, you get use to them after a while
Most of all I have my family who never fails to get me to smile.