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Poem for Sister
To mommy ran the little girl,
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter
Crocodile tears down her painted cheeks,
Mother exclaimed "What is the matter?!"
Well, mother dear, let me explain -
it's another game of tell-tat-tit,
Just because she didn't get her way
She threw herself down and had a fit.
A little paddy on the floor,
throwing things and cursing loud
Surely, mother, that is bad?
Does it make you happy? Make you proud?
Wash her mouth out with the soap
like you did to me when I was young,
make her suffer for her actions
teach her not to be so high strung.
I hear the bitching when my back is turned,
Oh, how she thinks that I don't know
that little wretch that thinks she's Queen,
that mouthy little so-and-so
So mother, when you hear her out
and think to yell up to my room,
remember that she's not quite grown up yet,
Don't be hasty and fire too soon,
Because though I'm mature to take this shit
And though you think I can leave it be
I assure you, mother dear,
I can be as big a bitch as she.
