My Future

 "Let's make him a sailor," said Father,
"And he will adventure the sea.
"
"A soldier," said Mother, "is rather
What I would prefer him to be.
"
"A lawyer," said Father, "would please me,
For then he could draw up my will.
"
"A doctor," said Mother, "would ease me;
Maybe he could give me a pill.
"

Said Father: "Lt's make him a curate,
A Bishop in gaiters to be.
"
Said Mother: "I couldn't endure it
To have Willie preaching to me.
"
Said Father: ""Let him be a poet;
So often he's gathering wool.
"
Said Mother with temper: "Oh stow it!
You know it, a poet's a fool.
"

Said Farther: "Your son is a duffer,
A stupid and mischievous elf.
"
Said Mother, who's rather a huffer:
"That's right - he takes after yourself.
"
Controlling parental emotion
They turned to me, seeking a cue,
And sudden conceived the bright notion
To ask what I wanted to do.


Said I: "my ambition is modest:
A clown in a circus I'd be,
And turn somersaults in the sawdust
With audience laughing at me.
"
.
 .
 .
 Poor parents! they're dead and decaying,
But I am a clown as you see;
And though in no circus I'm playing,
How people are laughing at me!

Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem |

Poems are below...