I breathe in.
White elephant exchange, who’s gift will be received? Only God knows, and it’s at his “whim.” But I celebrate no holiday, no Christmas Eve, Yet door ajar they stand: my gift in hand.
Stampede, this emotion, watching gifts shift in swift motion. Is it joy, or sick joke, held within my box? Let’s see, untie: watch Goldilocks.
Watch for the yellow, no not her hair, Color caused hosts play Musical Chair. A new gift they must find, one not of mine.
How frantically they found her seat, Gift-giver she did not even meet.
My present has passed, it could not last. “It’s not the nature of this game,” Or so I’m told so there will be no blame. But things will never be the same.
Red ribbons fly, I can’t but cry. How much I’ll miss the sight of bliss, When gifts are given, smile dear sis.