When I was just a boy I had a friend down the street.
His father would buy him a gift that was quite the treat.

The gift was never chocolates nor was it ever toys.
The gift would go unnoticed by most other girls and boys.

His father worked away to earn the family money.
They lived a very simple life eating maize and honey.

He was a little scruffy, his wardrobe had few clothes.
He had one pair of shoes that had holes right to his toes.

I can’t recall him laughing, it was hard to make him smile.
His nose was always runny but to me this wasn’t vile.

The gift was rather simple, and accepted without blues.
The gift nothing more than a box of new tissues.

This vivid childhood memory has lived with me for a while.
Tissues were the only thing that made poor Ernest smile.