Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Poem of the Day

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.
- Shel Silverstein

1 comment:

Dani Mae said...

You picked a poem about wetting your pants over "it's sad to be the roller when there's nothing left to roll"?