Poetry

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As a child, sad tears I cried
When Father said to, “Come inside”

All the fun and games would end
Spoiling my world of, “Let’s pretend…”

Warm summer nights sure made it hard
To leave the world of my backyard

But soon, in twinkling of an eye
I’ll wave my very last goodbye

No time to stick around and play
All make believe will end that day

The bank vault with its bolts and locks
Will fold up like a cardboard box

Lost pieces of a shattered game
Are houses, cars, fortune, and fame

A world so fond of hide-and-seek
While counting down, will turn and peek

And this time I’ll be smiling, wide
When Father says to, “Come inside”




Anna Kittrell
07-05

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