Monday, 15 October 2012


I don't want to go to school.
I hate working.
I just want to play.
I don't care if I get kicked out.
I dont know why I punched him
and smeared my pear in his face.
You made me mad.
You threw my pop out of the van.
You took the fork out of my hand
because I was running.
I would hit you but you're too big
and you hit back.
I don't have to look at you,
but when I do, I feel better.
I don't want to listen!
I don't have to listen!
I don't want to go to bed!
I don't want to be alone.
Sorry! Okay! I'm sorry!
I want a hug.
Will you read me a story?
Please sleep here.
I'm scared.


  1. Absolutely love the way the word choices pare this poem down to the reality of a little kid -- and his/her complex relationship with the godfather!

  2. Awwww. Reminds me of my son.

    My Godson is still quite the little charmer. Doesn't know yet about smashing fruit in other children's faces.

    The cadence here... love it.