My Three Boys
By Breelynn
Oh,the joys of having boysDirty jeans and lots of noise.Rocks in pockets and in shoes.We never know which socks are whose.Imagine the fun a few sons can bring.They're always busy not doing a thing.Bikes and skate-boards clutter the yard.Putting them up just seems too hard.Playing basketball in the park.Making the neighbors dogs start to bark.Catching crawdads in the creek.Chasing girls until they shriek.Playing Nintendo till their thumbs are sore.Having boys is never a bore.Any suggestions for an alternate title? This poem is also published on The Poetic Link. Written October 15th, 2001 © on Oct 15 2001 12:09 AM PST, Traci DeGraffenreid 10 • 0
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"Oh,the joys of having boysDirty jeans and lots of noise.Rocks in pockets and in shoes.We never know which socks are whose.Imagine the fun a few sons can bring.They're always busy not doing a thing.Bikes and skate-boards clutter the yard.Putting them up just seems too hard.Playing basketball in the park.Making the neighbors dogs start to bark.Catching crawdads in the creek.Chasing girls until they shriek.Playing Nintendo till their thumbs are sore.Having boys is never a bore.Any suggestions for an alternate title? This poem is also published on The Poetic Link...."