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What Am I?

I am the cubby in my closet during dreaded nap time, Asking Mommy to fix my mess Of barbies I thought looked better with no heads! Grandma and me drinking her "special shakes" when I arrived, Her outburst of heckling when ever I caught sight Of the Koosh ball with purple, green, and white. I'd cry hysterically until she told me that everything would be alright, Then we hugged and snuggled 'til the wee morning light. I was eager to get to bed so I could start the next day And have Poppy push me in the swing and ask him to sing, Way up high in the green tree. I am school and the snake and the jungle gym, Little girls screaming "Don't talk to HIM" We ran in the field, jumping and playing, Spinning so fast our brains started swaying! Fresh cut grass beneath our feet, Running so fast we lost our beat. Having my cousins come over to sleep and play, But before we could even get started my Daddy would say, "Pick your corners Kids!" and so we did. If we acted up we always ran and hid. I am helping with the laundry and cleaning some rooms, And then I got homework and knew I was doomed. I go to the park and play with some friends, Come home smelling like sweat and dying grass. Learning to play music so I could serenade, Buying school lunch until I got brave. Who cares if I brought a sacked lunch? Soccer practice taking up time I soon found I hadn't had. I am not wanting to grow up, Playing with Pop-a-Bowls on my head And parading around with our makeshift top hats. I am volunteering to help read to the kids, Playing trains and dress up until I drop, Looking forward to nap time more than ever. I an one with the ball, Games every week with just eleven girls, Wishing I would have done better, Only able to blame myself, Crunched for time with not a minute to spare. I am grounded and level headed, Wishing I was small enough to hide at night, Hearing people I love continue to fight. Running it off to relieve the stress. Hoping that one day I will wake and see, Everything like it used to be.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




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Date: 12/2/2008 10:36:00 AM
Marki you are an amazing women female what ever beyonce i am glad to be able to read your work
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Date: 12/2/2008 8:03:00 AM
The memories of childhood, can be a powerful thing. Each of those things, perhaps, has a bigger influence on our lives, than it seems at first glance. If only, we could go back and visit our childhood once in awhile, perhaps it would restore us to some degree! I enjoyed your poem, very much! ~ Carrie
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