Your Poetry Dot Com - Smarting Child

Array ( [sid] => 142849 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Smarting Child [time] => 2008-06-01 00:33:00 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Here, come say, “Yes,
This child is a genius!”
And watch our shoulders slump like languorous
Guns, I now know an onus on us.

Out of the chest he takes a toy,
The colors in it do not cloy --
Me, berated, for wooden ships primitive,
And the ancient Trojan horse from Troy.

With building blocks, we seek revenge
On the scripture of Stonehenge,
A countercall coming from young child,
The mission: history to avenge.

Wildly he delves
Into the depths of our whimsy-trod bookshelves,
He sees the falsity in trolls,
Yet traces elves

In his ear, in an attempt to be twice shrewd,
And dare I say rude?
And that night some cacophony
Lay within the lullaby we cooed.

Unfathomable, its tinny heights
Of up-rooted stalactites,
Saliently slinking Northern Lights --
And the learned reign of trilobites.

Here, come deem this child a genius,
And over broken tea we’ll fuss
And fight, at war in pedagogy,
The only thing worth, and us pompous.

The smarting child, crossfire cussed,
His unreconciled science must adjust,
And upon “yes,”
The guns we bust.

Smart, child, smart!
For, your tongue has been inured to tart.
Indeed, the peers of play will be embroiled
Once the inner sage has pierced your heart.

[comments] => 2 [counter] => 169 [topic] => 43 [informant] => screwge [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Smarting Child

Smarting Child
Date: Sunday, 1st June 2008 @ 12:33:00 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: screwge

Here, come say, “Yes,
This child is a genius!”
And watch our shoulders slump like languorous
Guns, I now know an onus on us.

Out of the chest he takes a toy,
The colors in it do not cloy --
Me, berated, for wooden ships primitive,
And the ancient Trojan horse from Troy.

With building blocks, we seek revenge
On the scripture of Stonehenge,
A countercall coming from young child,
The mission: history to avenge.

Wildly he delves
Into the depths of our whimsy-trod bookshelves,
He sees the falsity in trolls,
Yet traces elves

In his ear, in an attempt to be twice shrewd,
And dare I say rude?
And that night some cacophony
Lay within the lullaby we cooed.

Unfathomable, its tinny heights
Of up-rooted stalactites,
Saliently slinking Northern Lights --
And the learned reign of trilobites.

Here, come deem this child a genius,
And over broken tea we’ll fuss
And fight, at war in pedagogy,
The only thing worth, and us pompous.

The smarting child, crossfire cussed,
His unreconciled science must adjust,
And upon “yes,”
The guns we bust.

Smart, child, smart!
For, your tongue has been inured to tart.
Indeed, the peers of play will be embroiled
Once the inner sage has pierced your heart.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ screwge

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