Boxing

Briefcase, polished and tight
Warm rum out of sight
Last one to the tree
Gets ten digs to the arm
Sunshine song won't leave me
I like crafting horses on a Monday afternoon
I spent all my Boxing Day thinking about a moon
Yesterday's news will always be the same
Wherever you find it
I prefer to rattle their cages
Hoping there's a reason behind it.
Down down deep underground
Leave with a frown
People they stare
Ask me if I care