Estelle Paris Poems

What good are found pennies many may ask. To bend and pick them
up is such a task. To pick one up you can’t go far. One cent is
all they are. A penny here, a penny there. Ooh what a horrible
thought! Never does one think of what could be bought with that
...

Why, Mommy, why must you do this? I’ve barely just begun. I’ll
never be allowed to have any fun. The world is full of colors
which I may never see. The world is full of food my tummy wants
to try. Why, Mommy, why? Plenty of food I want to taste. Why
...