The child just won’t come in

The lights are starting to grow dim

My patience is beginning to grow thin

And without dinner my child will grow slim

I’ve made a big mess

While my child runs wild

We need to say grace and be blessed

Oh when will my little one be mild


Mother doesn’t know a thing

I’ll never grow tired

Her brain needs to be rewired

So no more fussing over towels that need a wring

I hope she stops thinking about clean

I like to be soaked in mud

While she stays a dud

And then she starts to get mean

I will choke

When she gives me a scrub

After all the grub

As a part of my daily soak 

CC BY-SA 4.0 Coatsworth ISO by Chloe Soule by Chloe is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.


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Youth Voices is organized by teachers at local sites of the National Writing Project and in partnership with Educator Innovator.

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