by Glen Martin Fitch
Adults are pleased and proud to see
their child behave so well,
so cute in party dress.
Forgotten are their years
of pain and stress.
It's THEIR shame
when their kid is acting wild.
But cherubs make me nervous.
Little elves are busy testing
in their quest to learn.
It never stops.
Our souls we have to earn.
They're surest
when they are their messy selves.
But party cloths still chafe.
I grew amiss.
My imp-self sought
a witness, yard stick, sage.
In my distress,
my tantrum showed my age.
Why you?
Why then?
No consolation this:
Though I betrayed your trust
and broke your heart,
I did felt safe enough
to fall apart.
- Share this Poem:
ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011