Friday, September 30, 2016

Little Brothers, by Naomi Eby

Only I can tell you the impossibleness
When I yell at them to come pick up their mess
And they give me the hugest of grins
They're little and cute and they make me laugh
But sometimes I forget about that
When they wake me with their din

Those terrible two, what mischief they make
That thing you had perfect, it's sure to "break"
Sometimes I really do wish I had none
But then the smaller one, close to five
Asks, "Will you play?" and it's sure to revive
The spirit of adventure of being young

And yes, they annoy me and get into my stuff
And sometimes it seems they can't grow fast enough
But soon they'll be gone, turned into young men
Then I might sleep in, and they'll not be in my way
But then I will yearn for the days when we'd play
The simple games we used to, then

by Naomi Eby, age 12

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