(This is a fictional poem) <br /> <br />When I was a child, I ordered action figures through the mail. <br />They sent them in cellophane bags and I always caught hell. <br />I removed the action figures and threw away the bags. <br />Instead of being trusted, I was constantly nagged. <br />Mom found some of the cellophane bags when she looked in the trash. <br />Dad went through my things because he thought I had drugs stashed. <br />They checked my body for needle marks, they even looked between my toes. <br />I told them that I didn't take drugs but they wouldn't let it go. <br />Dad said that I had to be spanked. <br />He said it would hurt now but one day he'd be thanked. <br />He put me over his knee and slapped my rear. <br />I had a porcupine in my pants and it drove Dad to tears. <br />My parents constantly hounded me during my youth. <br />They never believed me even though I was telling the truth. <br />During my prom, I was grounded instead of spanked. <br />Dad couldn't go to work for days because of the sugar I poured in his gas tank. <br />When my parents found my flea powder, they thought it was cocaine. <br />They handcuffed me to the bed and poured it down the drain. <br />They still think I'm a drug user even though I work for the DEA. <br />They won't believe me no matter what I say.<br /><br />Randy Johnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cellophane-bags/
