From such a young age,
We are taught to give….
And I’ve always wondered,
What does it mean?

“Giving” might be giving gifts to friends.
Is a shiny, paper-covered box
With a blue ribbon and bow
How I’m supposed to say I care?

Is “giving” looking in my wallet
For some spare change during church,
So I have something to show for
When the plate is passed to me?

I’ve discovered, sometimes “giving”
Was when I let my sister sit shotgun
Just to hear mom and her argue while
I’m passing time alone in the backseat.

After all these confused years,
Can I even say what “giving” is?

I have no pretty wrapping paper.
I have no money to put on the plate.
I’m too old to argue about the front seat.

I guess “giving” is when I see the old man
Struggling with that door to the flower shop,
And opening it for him while he grins
From underneath his golfing cap.

Maybe “giving” is asking the young mother
With loads of bags, and kids,
At the corner grocery store
If she would like any help today.

“Giving” is probably handing that woman
Without a home or even a car
Some cash, or maybe some food,
Because she needs anything she can get.

“Giving” is not what this world is these days.
People have forgotten how to share.
See, the problem with this “giving,”
Is that nobody gives a **** anymore.