T,I,M,N

Trouble Is My Name.

Just like a little church mouse I crept about the house.
Not wanting to be seen, by Molly,Dan or Jean.
Cause everywhere I want to be they always seem to know.
No matter how quiet I am they always make a show.
They create such disturbance, always making lots of noise.
Dad says, we should be seen not heard quiet girls and boy.
They're often making trouble as the eldest I'm to blame
just because they're rug rats and trouble is my name.
I don't know why I'm called trouble, I do everything they say.
I go to school and work hard and straight home at the end of day.
My dad will give me sweets or choc, he always gives me double
but all my mum will ever say is,
Oh no, here comes trouble.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace