A Poem for Roaming Children
The Disobedient Child
However I would never get hurt in the process.
Not only my body would roam everywhere
But my mind as well.
As I walked through the zoo when I was eight,
With no thought in mind,
My mother was screaming for me
Until her lungs exploded in time.
I knew she was a worryrat,
So I regained my senses and returned to her side.
I soon received training for my sauntering ways,
And lived my life with a focused body.