He sits on top a dusty shelf; his care when he showed none. I think you gave me your unwanted gifts. And yet this the only thing you gave my family, better than a beating. I forgive you because you are a fellow human, but I hate you. I hate how you remind me that my family is jealous. I hate how I have to hold onto you; I don't want you. You old, dusty, boxed race truck; I don't want you.