Tag Archives: Kids

Baby’s First Gangsta Rap

I hit my brother

And hit my mother.

It was not okay.

They said “Don’t hit.”

I said “No shit”

And hit them anyway.

Cops saw the fight,

Turned on their light,

And hit me in the gut.

So hitting’s okay

With the government’s say?

And I was all like “Wut?”

I hit the cop

And hit my pop

With my inflatable hammer.

They cuffed my wrists

To stop my fists

And shut me in the slammer.

I was in jail

‘Cause no one paid bail

And was charged in juvenile court.

I can’t write a sentence

But I’ll attempt repentance

And maybe build a fort.

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Honest Kids

I said “kinda farty,”

And mommy got mad.

That’s what her dinner tasted like.

Now I live alone with Dad.

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Neverland is Here

A child once asked
What the word “adult” means.
I answered “It’s someone
Grown out of their teens.”

“So just like a grown up!”
The kid clarified,
And I felt my innards
Knotting up inside

For I knew that tiny figure
Holding onto his sippy cup
Would be forced to discover
Most adults never grow up.

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