My mother said, "Be quiet."
But, because we're boys
We're really quite incapable
Of lacking any noise
But even though it's hard for us
We're trying to be silent
We're wrestling so soundlessly
It's hardly even violent
Our loud music we are playing
So quietly, you see
It's at volume twenty-seven
Instead of volume thirty-three
And tiptoeing quieter
Than a tiny little mouse
We're honking silent horns
Throughout the soundless house
I'm slamming doors so carefully
The floor won't even shake
Our screaming's making the smallest noise
That screaming can possibly make
But Mother is still mad at us
It seems we cannot win
Wait, I might remember now
I may have dropped a pin
--By Hannah Eby, age 12
This poem is entirely fictitious--any resemblance to her actual brothers or mother is purely coincidental!
