Wrapped in WhiteA Poem by justdandy... because the most expensive gift is not bought, it is brought.On my third birthday, I got a gift that couldn't be returned. A gift that would always be there with me. A gift that would haunt me. Gift was not a doll, was not a Starbucks' card. Gift had one ear sticking out more than the other one. Gift would cry. Gift was sometimes bossy. But, Gift was always happy. And if it was happy, then I was happy. Gift had a crush on a boy who was two years older, got a ring from that boy at age four, lost it the very next day. (We still can't find it.) Gift would snitch on me, would hug me, would hurt me. Gift would say, "I'm sorry," as if it was a robot. Gift cried on the first day of school, then made friends really quickly, invited them over for a play date. Gift got home schooled for two months only, went back to school because, it missed its friends. Gift still snores and talks when sleeping, cries at night, sometimes sleeps with me because it gets nightmares. Gift makes me laugh, makes my life shine a little brighter. Gift pranks me, slaps me in the face with shaving cream when I just get out of the shower, takes the cream out of my Oreo cookie and puts mustard instead, and then gives it to me (I take a bite). But, I love my gift because Gift was not bought, it was brought into. Gift was not in put in a pink, polka-dot box, with a purple bow on top. Gift was wrapped up in white cotton, as if it wore a wedding dress. Gift is not a bouquet of red summer roses, not the mp3 that I got on my eighth birthday. Gift is my little sister, Gift is a laugh.© 2016 justdandyAuthor's Note
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