(With the usual.) <br />I <br /> <br />In winter I get up at night, <br />And dress by an electric light. <br />In summer, autumn, ay, and spring, <br />I have to do the self-same thing. <br /> <br />I have to go to bed and hear <br />Pianos pounding in my ear, <br />And hear the janitor cavort <br />With garbage cans within the court. <br /> <br />And does it not seem hard to you <br />That I should have these things to do? <br />Is it not hard for us Manhat- <br />Tan children in a stuffy flat? <br /> <br />II <br /> <br />It is very nice to think <br />The world is full of food and drink; <br />But, oh, my father says to me <br />They cost all of his salaree. <br /> <br />III <br /> <br />When I am grown to man's estate <br />I shall be very proud and great; <br />E'en now I have no reverence, <br />'Cause I read comic supplements. <br /> <br />IV <br /> <br />New York is so full of a number of kids <br />I'm sure pretty soon we shall be invalids. <br /> <br />V <br /> <br />A child should always say what's true, <br />And speak when he is spoken to; <br />And then, when manhood's age he strikes, <br />He may be boorish as he likes.<br /><br />Franklin P. Adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-new-york-child-s-garden-of-verses/
