Sippy cup

Ain't it grand this life o' mine
Fiddling with all that I can find
Taste it touch it spit it up
Can you pass my sippy cup
Oh my I've made a mess again
My diaper smells of committed sin
Well here I go I'm all grown now
At two years old I take a bow

1 comments:

Kris said...

Fair point, well made.

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Hi folks, I'm a software development manager. I've worked with computers most of my life. I write a poem a day about whatever strikes my fancy. I hope they make you smile.