My Son


  • Family

    My Son

    As you run to me
    Run to show me
    Show me what is in you
    What is in your mouth
    What is in your hand
    That does not belong there
    Why do you place those thing
    Those things are not food
    Please stop
    Why do you eat things
    Things that are not food
    You run to me
    Running to show me
    What do you want me to see
    Is it the fact of the fact
    The fact you got
    You got it in your hand
    Please don’t let it
    Don’t let it find you
    Find a way into you
    Please stop
    Please no more
    You are doing better
    With age, thanks for that
    Wait, please, no
    Not again, I beg
    As you stick your hand
    Stick it down your backside
    And pull it out
    Pull it out be hide you
    Now I run to you
    But am I to late?
    I look at you
    I wonder why
    Why do you place things
    Things inside your mouth
    Things that are not food
    It is bad when it is your own POO

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    EbonyQueen48 commented on My Son


    This is a very creative piece, I agree Kids do put alot of things in their mouths and noses, I have grand kids and they just are so much morte curious then my children were. great piece

    Gidnite commented on My Son


    Good You have a nice poem Ashley, but I will advice you execute the rhyming aspect too. For example: As you run to me ...a Run to show me ...a Show me what is in you ...b What is bothering you ...b So with these the rhymes will be a,a & b,b You have a great poem there. Congratulations Sweetheart

    Silentbetrayal commented on My Son


    All the kids I've been around, including my niece and nephew, but I've never seen one take their own poo to eat it. Wow. But nicely put, very enjoyable to read.

    dangedmanjr commented on My Son


    hee hee! as a daddy, i do understand!

    keithrberryjr commented on My Son


    sounds like things little kids do.

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    Footprints2002’s Poems (42)

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    UnKnown 2 3
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    My Son 11
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    When I Looke At You 3
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