Adryan Rotica


Seven Year Old - Poem by Adryan Rotica

So you want to play
with dolls,
what's the harm
in that?
She says, ''No!
Boys don't play
with dolls,
it's just not
the done thing''.
You want to play
with dolls!
What's so bad
with that?
So when she
goes away
you play,
play and play,
escaping
into your own
dream doll fantasy
until she comes home,
then back you go
in to home sweet
home reality.
As all secrets
eventuate,
the day came...
you got caught!
Now, mommy is
very angry with you,
''You bad boy,
go to your room''!
Instead of going
to your room,
you decide
to run away!
Only on the run
can you escape
punishment to come.
That thought alone,
that she is going to
scold you,
sets your feet
in motion.
You are in trouble
Big Time,
but there is no place
to run to.
How long can you roam?
So you go back home.
Upon your arrival
you say,
''mommy I am sorry,
I learned my lesson,
and I learned it
the hard way''.
At the end of the door,
comes a smile, that
welcomes comfort
instead of a scold.
Her love, surprises you
when she is just glad
to have you back home! ! !

So now you are,
a good little boy!


Copyright ©2006


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Poem Edited: Monday, May 1, 2006


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