I Am Not a Poet But I Think I Write Poems
Floating around inside this womb,
It`s very warm but not much room;
My mother is blown up like a balloon,
I`m pretty sure I`ll be out soon
Now I`m a baby, snotty nose,
Crawling around in baby gros;
It seems like ages till I can walk,
And how on earth will I get to talk?
They keep me home it seems quite cruel,
When will I be allowed to school?
Once I get there it`s my concern,
It takes so long to look and learn
My height increases, i will it so
But still it appears oh so slow;
Finally men who were once so tall,
Now in contrast are quite small
I think I have made it now i am grown,
But even so my goal has flown;
The adults tell me I`m still green,
I wish I knew just what they mean.
It`s very warm but not much room;
My mother is blown up like a balloon,
I`m pretty sure I`ll be out soon
Now I`m a baby, snotty nose,
Crawling around in baby gros;
It seems like ages till I can walk,
And how on earth will I get to talk?
They keep me home it seems quite cruel,
When will I be allowed to school?
Once I get there it`s my concern,
It takes so long to look and learn
My height increases, i will it so
But still it appears oh so slow;
Finally men who were once so tall,
Now in contrast are quite small
I think I have made it now i am grown,
But even so my goal has flown;
The adults tell me I`m still green,
I wish I knew just what they mean.