A poet gives birth to a poem,
Just as a mother gives birth to a child.
The child looks after its mother
When it becomes grown;
So, does a poem take care of its poet,
When it becomes well-known.
When I grow up
I will be a butterfly
That fly and fly
Flapping papa pap!
When I grow up
I will be a fish
That swims in the sea
And showers chumbwi!
When I grow up
I will be an eagle
That soars and soars
So high in the sky
Children Poem
Children Poem
Eye eat meat eye eat a lot of that stiffens mostly fish though sometimes beef and
others even mutton but very seldom and they always say you are just what you
eat.
Eye eat meat not rare not always not cooked not always medium not always
done clear threw not always well not always sweet to such an one as eye. Eye
have seen people playing in the mud and eating mud pies and yes we are the
clay when life is done but can we eat most anything made underneath the moon
of GODS own SON. Everything is lawful oh LORD what have eye done by eating
meat have eye made my vegetarian go astray or can she understand me as eye
am just having repast past my teeth please meat is fun.
Please and thank you fish please and thank you cow please and thank you
veggies anyhow please and thank you Jesus for every cow and fish and nothing
that we eat much matters in the end.