Wednesday, January 31, 2007

We ate Chinese

We ate Chinese
On that Christmas day
Mom was to tired to cook
Dad was to drunk to care
I had the sweet and sour shrimp
With an egg roll
We sat there in silence
In the empty restaurant
Mom and dad weren’t fighting
My sister wasn’t bitching
Inwardly I smiled
As I stabbed a battered shrimp with my chopstick
It may not seem like much
But I had just received the gift that I always wished for

1 comment:

  1. yay, good stuff all around. although i thought this one was going to be a bit cannibalistic.