Category Archives: Short Stories and free-writing

They may be stories, but they might be true.

Vegan Holiday

Vegan Holiday
Joseph Delli Gatti

Closer and closer
every day
to my pet turkey
and closer to the holidays.

I named him Willy
and I fed him corn.
It may sound silly,
but I feel so torn.

I used to play with Willy –
we had so much fun.
But now Dad wants to kill him;
so, I yell to Willy, “Run!”

Run, Willy, run! Go, go – get out of there!
Run, Willy, run! Go, go, go!
Run, Willy, run! Go, go – get out of there!
Run, Willy, run – look at Willy run!

I see my wicked mom
sharpening her knife.
A tear falls from my eye
’cause it’s the end of Willy’s life.

I’ve known him just one year.
He was my only friend.
Painful gobbling fills the air –
I hope it’s not the end!

My father dropped the axe
while my brother held its head.
My headless turkey ran around
and finally fell down dead

Run, Willy, run! Go, go – get out of there!
Run, Willy, run! Go, go, go!
Run, Willy, run! Go, go – get out of there!
Run, Willy, run – look at Willy run!

I looked down at my plate,
just after Dad’s prayer,
at my poor dead Willy
all cut up lying there.

I dumped my dinner plate
right there on the floor,
and yelled to Willy, “RUN!”
as I held open the door.

I started to cry
’cause Willy didn’t move.
My mom said, “Come back in here –
and eat your stupid food.”

Run, Willy, run! Go, go – get out of there!
Run, Willy, run! Go, go, go!
Run, Willy, run! Go, go – get out of there!
Run, Willy, run – look at Willy run!

And that’s why I’m a vegan!

The Plight Before Christmas

The Plight Before Christmas
Joseph Delli Gatti

T’was the night before Christmas, and there he sat –
a boy and his friend, an old alley cay.
There were holes in his stockings, and his clothes were rags.
He sat writing a Christmas list on an old paper bag.

He didn’t want much, just one little thing:
a beautiful present that only Santa could bring.
Then the boy hung his socks from an old garbage can
to be filled with goodies by the jolly red man.

He curled up in some newspaper right next to his kitten,
thinking of Christmas and the list he had written.
and there he slept on the cold city street
tired and dirty with nothing to eat.

He awoke the next morning and rubbed his eyes
for what he saw was a shocking surprise!

His socks had been stolen; no presents were near.
There was no sign of Santa nor his eight tiny reindeer.
The boy wept softly and held his kitten tight.
So, merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.