Parents Being Who They Are
T'was in the 1960s in South Africa. There was a brand of sweets that fascinated us young ones. Inside the pocket of sweets were toys - little appealing toys that spoke to us. One would, upon opening theirs, find a caterpillar, a gun wielding soldier or other scintillating wonder! We would have loved our parents to buy us these treasures regularly, but parents being who they are, never shared our enthusiasm. They often told us there was no money. We had to live with this reality! That shop of a white man was a wonderland!
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.