Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Kids, kids stop your fighting I say or
	you are going to be put out.
I don’t care what you’re both fighting
	and spouting about.
Hear me I say, you don’t want to walk,
	for home is not very near.
She pulled my hair, and she sat on my dress;
	this stuff I don’t want to hear.
That’s enough Dad says, you’ll have to get
	out and walk in the dark.
Mom was behind us, which we never knew,
	and so we didn’t think it was a lark.
In the future as we sit in the car we’ll remember
	that long dark walk home in September.

© Copyright 1998 by Jean E. Gorney