My heart is made of tissue paper, brightly colored and slightly scratchy
Always wrinkled and creased in just the wrong places.
Smoothing it out on the kitchen counter as I wait for my coffee to brew
Just so I can wad it up in a less worn looking section.
I sent it over on your birthday, barely visible in the gift bag
Packed alongside something I knew you needed and something I knew you wanted,
But you never even lifted it from the merry receptacle.
You just threw it out with the trash.
I saw it blowing down the street like a tumbleweed
So, I bent to retrieve it but a sudden gust caught it and skirted it away
I watched it, this way and that, its own little dance
But me, I just didn’t feel that festive.
Simply brilliant! Thanks for the great gift that danced its way to me.