Kid In Mud
Mired in grime,
the little guy sang,
he had little sense,
of what was neat and clean,
he spluttered mud,
as he fell in the quagmire,
with a gleeful thud,
the mom came along,
before long,
chided him hard,
for he was growing fast,
and faster still gathering dirt,
she was fearful of him,
of the ills he might catch,
he still wanted,
the mud,
as much delight as it could fetch.
Copyright © Shishir Gupta | Year Posted 2005
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment