My Kind of Store

My kind of Store The big fancy door Opened up into a whimsical store. Things I haven’t seen before. Things my Mother would deplore. My eye caught something I wore, I found it to be a bore. I walked through and continued to explore. Things Mom would like, I chose to ignore. I will sneak them in my drawer, I really don’t care anymore. I will never be like her, I swore. I will be listening to her nag no more. Trying to get along is such a chore, One I have begun to deplore.