Don'T Walk With Your Eyes Closed Poem by Edmund Harborer

When I was young my mother
Called me into the kitchen
Where she was making dinner
And she asked me,

'What did you say
That upset your teacher
So much she had to phone home
'N tell me to have a talk with you? '

And I told her, 'Mamma,
I didn't do anything, but
I kissed Jaime on the cheek
And told 'im I loved 'im.'

And I remember that he said,
'I love you too.' and that
Our teacher had swooped in
And picked me up by the waist and
Swept me away clean off my feet
And scolded me for a good 3
Minutes about not kissing boys
Anymore, ever, nowhere.

And I didn't understand.

Still don't. We were six-and-seven,
smooth brown hair and golden curls,
And Jaime said that was what people did
When they loved other people.

I'd seen Mamma do it once too
And I thought it ought'a have been
Okay.

There's an awful lot of people
On this earth and the only way
You won't see what you don't
Like is to walk with
Your eyes closed.