Tuesday, January 6, 2015

The Value of Children

Insolent horrors of drudging filth
Bemoaning their daily lives
They feed on tears and wails of contempt
Oh, children, I do so despise

Complaining most often of all the ways
The world's so malicious and wrong
To get them to bed is torture severe
And my ears do so bleed at their song

Oh to mature and thus never complain
As adults who have wisened so much
I lay in my pain as I'm trying to sleep
Bemusing to have them for lunch

Such burden doth bring a child-filled life
No peace has been had for years
Their many complaints at the hardness of life
Has left me drowning in beers

If only a minute their poisonous words
And banshee-like screams could cease
They'd see all the comfort their first-world doth bring
And allow me some most-needed peace

Oh please make it stop what powers may be
For this I can no longer bare
My suffering's reached the peak of its limit
And I've none left to rip out my hair!

Woe is me for the children will not stop their cries
Woe is me for I'm going insane
The bantering woes of the children disturb
My utmost of quality brain

Make them shush, make them silent,
And ever so still and quiet
I'm flailing my arms in the depths of despair
I can no longer handle their riots!

I sit as I fume and foam at the mouth
I think I have made my point known
Kids are revolting and grown-ups are pure
Thank goodness for all I have grown

Now pittering pats of a tiny creature
Are heard as it climbs on the bed
Smiling as wide as the ocean is deep
She rests on me her sweet head

The distant moans melt and drown
As clarity comes to inspire
For all of their costs their value is more
Once again my heart is afire

The darkest night stands not a chance
To the spark of a child's eye
Their smiles are dew to a joy-parched soul
With every new thing they imbibe

With no provocation they run to your side
And hug your thick leg with might
They joyfully shake with hope most profound
At a cookie or some small delight

What brightness they bring to a cynical heart
And jealousy brought to a miser
To love and to sing with simplest of ease
Oh what's lost as we grow ever wiser

So long as the screams close not our ears
And the messes refrain to blind
We can hear the sound of invaluable joy
And see all their beauty unwind

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