Had it been a gift.
It would have been for the present.
Yet, so much littered the path.
Like an upholstered couch left in the rain.
A little something for what ails.
But the Gift-er lacks charity…
Thus, a custom design pails.
Living like a prodigy mapping out days of solace.
Planning perks from a, lost, no longer enchanted, forest.
In the thicket of flaws.
A present would seem misleading.
In the deep, wood, depth, of despair.