Poetry Friday

Oscar, want to go to Trump?

I don’t know if my parents would let me,

Maybe tomorrow?

I rushed right up stairs to ask my mom

She mused about it for so long as I sat there,

We were two gravestones, silent, motionless.

I was aghast, still silent after the answer was revealed,

“I don’t want you to get robbed,”

“I don’t want you going without an adult.”

I was like a flower, but never watered.

My dad walked in

and as he said yes I was absolutely uplifted!

He encouraged it,

I was absolutely delighted

As I went out

Older than the day before.





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