I wander through the gift shop
packed with pointless knick knacks
and tourist traps
until I reach my elder kin.
He’s already holding out his prize,
the metal square printed with the name “Adam.”
First on the shelf, just like every other store,
and I ignore him to begin my own quest.
But as I search, I find that there’s
no space between “Holly” and “Hunter.”
I search the whole shelf, but I should know by now
my search will forever remain
My father guides me to the opposite end
where the inspirational words
sit and gather dust.
And there is my name,
next to “faith”
and under “love.”
There it hides, amongst all the other words
that will never make the name plates.
What will it take for the world to understand
I am not an idea,
but a person?
I suppose you expect me to be satisfied
by frilly Christmas ornaments
or those silly, inscribed stones
that people buy just to cast aside,
never to be seen again.
But I am not just some pretty face
that can be discarded so easily.
I am a person,
a human being,
and I expect to be treated as such.
All I want
is to find a filled slot
right in between “Holly” and “Hunter”
taken up by the name “Hope.”
*(Note: Yes, this is from real life experience and yes, it really does annoy me. If you are reading this and own a gift shop, please make sure to have name plates with a variety of names on them, including uncommon names. And don’t just leave out names like “Hope” and “Faith.” We want name plates too.)
Picture source: ebay
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