Dorothy D. Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I'm sick of 'musn'ts,' said Dorothy D.
Sick of musn'ts, as I can be.
From early dawn till the close of day
I hear a musn't, and never a may.

It's 'you musn't lie there like a sleepy head,'
And 'you musn't sit up when it's time for bed.'
'You musn't cry when I comb your curls,'
'You musn't play with those noisy girls.'
'You musn't be silent when spoken to,'
'You musn't chatter as parrots do.'
'You musn't be pert, and you musn't be proud,'
'You musn't giggle or laugh aloud.'
'You musn't rumple your nice clean dress,'
'You musn't nod, in the place of a 'yes.''

So all day long the musn'ts go,
Till I dream at night of a great black row,
Of goblin 'musn'ts' with monstrous eyes
That stare at me in a shocked surprise.
Oh, I hope I will live to see the day
When some one will say to me, 'Dear, you may.'
For I'm sick of 'musn'ts,' said Dorthy D.
Sick of musn'ts, as I can be.