Franklin P. Adams

(15 November 1881 – 23 March 1960 / Chicago, Illinois)

A New York Child's Garden Of Verses - Poem by Franklin P. Adams

(With the usual.)

In winter I get up at night,
And dress by an electric light.
In summer, autumn, ay, and spring,
I have to do the self-same thing.

I have to go to bed and hear
Pianos pounding in my ear,
And hear the janitor cavort
With garbage cans within the court.

And does it not seem hard to you
That I should have these things to do?
Is it not hard for us Manhat-
Tan children in a stuffy flat?


It is very nice to think
The world is full of food and drink;
But, oh, my father says to me
They cost all of his salaree.


When I am grown to man's estate
I shall be very proud and great;
E'en now I have no reverence,
'Cause I read comic supplements.


New York is so full of a number of kids
I'm sure pretty soon we shall be invalids.


A child should always say what's true,
And speak when he is spoken to;
And then, when manhood's age he strikes,
He may be boorish as he likes.

Comments about A New York Child's Garden Of Verses by Franklin P. Adams

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Friday, March 30, 2012

Poem Edited: Friday, March 30, 2012

[Hata Bildir]