I'm Naughty Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

They call me naughty, I don't know why.
I do my best, I really try.
Days go by, what else to do?
To fit where ever, they want
me to.

I change my colors, try to be neat.
Walk on tiptoes down every street.
I say the right words, smile so wide.
But something's missing deep inside.

Is naughty a name, a secret sound?
That makes me feel I'm not quite found.
I wish they'd see, beyond the jest,
The quiet me, who tries my best.


T.M.Solvang