She hunches in the corner.
Her knees are small and weak.
Her eyes are liquid glass.
She’s so tiny and so meak.

She hears the piercing words
Of how she’s ner’ been loved.
She puts her thumb in mouth
It fits just like a glove.

She waits until it’s quiet
Then races to her room.
She hides beneath her covers
Like yarn spindled on a loom .

What did I do to mommy
To make her feel this way?
I should have been much better
I should have put my toys away .

Now mommy’s in there crying
She don’t like me anymore.
I’ll get my clothes together
And leave forever more.

Written by,
Terry Shepherd

Some days just aren’t made for trying.