Beware what's inside gift boxes. --Michelle Liew
π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺ
A box, on my patio.
No sender, no note.
A wicked gleam surrounds it---
The look that beckons---
π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺ
UNWRAP ME.
π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺ
It seemed a blessing.
Inside, dollar notes, bundled up.
A mink cloak, finally, my style!
A crown with rubies---now, why not?
π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺ
I flaunted on the street
Cloak billowing, coins jingling.
A mere glance at peasants---
I mean, my neighbours.
π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺ
And then---
π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺ
My cloak, moth eaten.
Gold? No more.
The crown---iron.
π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺ
The townsfolk laughed.
π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺ
Their blessing.
π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺ
My gifts now, untouched.
π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺπ€π€πͺπ€πͺπ€πͺ
This poem is entirely original. AI tags are coincidental.
About the Creator
Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin
Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.
Comments (4)
Don't set your worth on things, but on people <3
Sometimes, things are always too good to be true. Loved your poem!
Hidden meanings, I will check gifts from now on. Well Done Michelle!!
Always check gifts from unknown sources , excellent work