It's a Wrap

I may not be complicated, like that of a toy hand-clapper. I am quite simple, merely a wrapper. What kind of wrapper am I? Many do question. To them I say, “Let me make a suggestion.” I am a plain wrapper, you see? Not cracker, chocolate, or a want-to-be. I am a wrapper of many, I am me. My life started simple, just part of a tree. Somebody cut it down; they set me free. These creatures looked quite weird; one had something called a beard. I couldn’t help but wonder, “What do they want with this tree,” as they began to plunder. They began to sever the branches covered in leaves. I felt pity for the homes of the birds and the bees. The tree was loaded on something called a truck. All I could do is sit there and think, “I have the worst luck.” We arrived at our destination; it certainly sparked my imagination. They loaded the tree onto a machine, “go” said the shipper, as they started up the giant wood chipper. I became my own, not apart of a tree. We became a small society. Next we went into a steam room, many screamed about doom. I didn’t understand how they could feel any gloom. They soaked us in something called oatmeal; the others made it such a big deal. Next, they filled up the trough with water to wash us off. The next liquid turned us white. I began to question, “Is this right?” I recalled a famous lollipop wrapper who went from brown to white, his name was Jackson. That change had a mostly positive reaction. After a few more steps, and a nice massage. We were fused back together into a paper collage. Some were cut big; some were cut small. Some paper wasn’t cut at all. I was ridiculed because I was small, I didn’t listen to their belittling call. As a child, I was taught that those who are the smallest always stand the tallest. I was taken and loaded into a square, I was stuck. As I continued to listen, I heard them load us onto another truck. Arriving at the next place, I heard many voices. One was serious, so I thought he made the choices. He introduced himself with the name of Randy. He had mention something about wrapping candy. Everyone was unloaded and sorted by size. Seeing some of the items in there was such a surprise. I was taken and put on a long belt, then coated with a wax in case the candy did melt. We were taken and I was colored red. Others thought that they were dead. They were all very scared. It seemed as though I was the only one prepared. I said to them, “We are about to discover who we will become. This fear is something you must overcome.” All of us were taken into the next room; I knew I would discover who I am soon. Taken and wrapped around a piece of candy, I now know who I am, which is fine and dandy. Not a fly trapper, nor a measure for a snapper, I am a candy wrapper. I am not well known like the M&M’s wrapper or the fifty cent wrapper, but I am worthy so I wasn’t sent to the scrapper. Again, I was packed up and ready to ship. Joining me were some containers called “Cool Whip.” We pulled up and went into a giant store. It was a place I wish I could explore. The people sorted us by what kind of wrapper we were. They handled us gently; I wish I could say “Thank you, kind sir.” As many took my friends home, I watch the people; as they would roam. Many came and many went, someone finally took me, they have a weird accent. That didn’t matter to me, though, because I’m not the type with a big ego. This may sound a bit sappy, but for the first time, I was truly happy. A furry friend tried to snatch me, and the man said, “Down pup!” He reached down and picked me up, rustled me around and took what was inside, looked at it and his eyes went wide. He put his hand out the window, and threw me aside. There I was, tossed in the street. No one even cared to think I was still sweet. When they look inside, there is no treat. Only a heart of gold, which is a quality not many could beat.