At the ripe old age of 4. <br />She stands there at the door. <br />Carebear suitcase packed and ready. <br />Dora fruit snacks and her teddy. <br /> <br />The rules were just too much. <br />Countless things she couldn't touch. <br />The bed was not for jumping. <br />The chairs not made for slumping. <br /> <br />She never found it fair, <br />that she shouldn't cut her hair. <br />Or paint the cat with mustard, <br />and share her favorite custard. <br /> <br />She tried so hard to plead her case, <br />of all the marker upon her face. <br />Over tea her doll did say, <br />how fabulous she looked that way. <br /> <br />All those meals she didn't desire. <br />The sight of candles in the drier. <br />Every fun thing was a no. <br />She just knew she had to go. <br /> <br />'I'm never coming back' she said. <br />Her mother smiles and nods her head. <br />'Guess these toys I'll give away, <br />I'll miss you tons, enjoy your day.' <br /> <br />Frozen still with hands on hips, <br />as mother pulls down chocolate chips. <br />'Perhaps I'll stay just one more night.' <br />Her mother laughs and says 'Alright'. <br /> <br />© 2013 L.K.Sorrows<br /><br />Little King of Sorrows<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chips-ahoy/
