A Bit ''Oddball''
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I was a little girl with a tattered ragdoll,
and I lived in an attic that was not tall;
in fact, there were parts where I had to crawl.
I liked to play make-believe till nightfall,
and write- so I wrote on the wall;
listening to dreamy gentle rainfall . . .
and on that wall, oh yes, I did scrawl.
Then in the morning I heard Mom call,
she beheld my wall writing in great appall;
oh yes indeed, it was my curtain-call . . .
Mom left and returned with a can of spray Lysol.
I want you to clean it and I mean all,
and went away muttering- I was a bit oddball;
so I cleaned it and then lay on my bed, I recall
crying and holding my tattered doll.
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February 8, 2017
Poetry/Rhyme/A Bit "Oddball"
Copyright Protected, ID 17-873-515-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2017
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