Mom Was Mad Poem by James Callos Jordan

A spilled bowl of macaroni,
And broken pieces of glass;
In a bright Sunday morning.

It was an accident,
While doodling with my pencil;
On our small breakfast table.

Mom scolded me,
Like my terror teacher does;
Saying mean words.

I can’t understand what she says,
But I know she is angry;
So I just cried my hearts out.

Overpowered by my cry,
My mom stopped talking;
Hug me tight and whispered in my ear:

“I’m not mad at you,
I’m mad at the bowl of macaroni;
Because it might have hurt you”

May 3,2009