Some of the children, I see;
Driving bye,
Where did they come from.
Sitting at the light, one arrives.
Mothers on the phone,
and trying to get home once again.
Where did he learn that, on what cartoon.
Not even a family guy,
could do such a thing as that.
Pulling out big boogers, and offering them
as candy to his small trusting sister.
With big puppy eyes she accepts his offer.
My hand on the horn, comes back up.
What would I say, what if she stopped.
Some of the children, I see;
Where is it now that they come from.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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