Ahahaha.Never mind that, tatianochka! That's just a joke. Smile
Your poem indeed's so sweet! Wink smile I love it, too!
Jarian! Wnk Smile Thank you! You inspired me to make this and out of boredom, I made this!
THE IMP
Your hair got pulled too many times,
Your Papa and Mamma told you not to do it,
Your siblings warned you about it,
Yet you never stopped it.
You would climb trees and hide under your bed,
Just to avoid the fuss that you call,
You would bite and scratch your playmates,
and it leaves you always in fault.
You often do something improper,
Which makes your Mamma not dare to sleep,
And once the volcano in her erupted,
When you got black from the chimney.
Your teachers thought you're intelligent,
And expected you'd surpass your siblings' achievements,
But you failed to keep your intellect,
When you flunked and seemed disinterested.
You would hide furtively in a corner,
And eavesdrop on others' conversation,
You would suddenly meddle and say something,
And run from the room to avoid scolding!
You don't know the meaning of shame,
As you openly talk to anybody,
You don't know the word cry,
As you just turn red when you're supposed to cry!
