When I grow up I want to be
the clip that holds your hair back
and when you ride your bike you won't go off track.
When I am grown I wish to be
the foam that rides upon the sea
fizzing with the joy of speed, loose and free.
When I am older I want to be
the raspberry juice that dribbles down your vampire face,
the tumbling drips your tongue will chase.
Why must they lasso my innards to a chair
and say, you'll make a good banker, now sit there?
6 days ago
5 comments:
:-)
LOVED it...
Thanks!
i never saw that foam on the sea as a pretty thing before..
I love this. especially teh last para about lassoing your innards .
I'm loving this poem! When I am grown, I want to be the fluff on the dandelion... oh wait. not quite the same feel. Let me think on it some more.
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