Posted in poetry, writing

Crying Child

My eldest finds crying,

The thing that helps him win.

But when he starts, I don’t agree,

And have to bear it and grin.

***

Sometimes I turn to shouting,

And putting him in his place.

It’s the only thing that stops

The tears from rolling down his face.

***

He goes straight to crying,

No attempt at negotiating or compromise.

I explain that adults do this,

For we can’t get our way by letting floods pour from our eyes.

***

Then I think if I cried every time I didn’t get my way,

Surely the world would be better?

We’d show emotions all the time

With our eyes getting wetter and wetter?

******

In a perfect world maybe?!

Author:

"I loved writing as a child, loved making up silly stories. They came built-in to my brain, almost like an Ikea instruction manual. The focus these days is to figure out how to now turn them into books" Tanya Butler, June 2018

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