The Angry Naughty Little Boy
A very difficult child born to be wild
The Angry Naughty Little Boy
He stands with arms tight across his chest
eyes like thunder ready to break
his mouth a line that will not move
and his feet planted hard on the ground
He has been told no and no again
and still he tries to push his luck
he stamps his heel he lifts his chin
and dares the world to stop him
Mud on his knees from the morning fight
crumbs on his shirt from stolen bread
his pockets are full of stones and string
and one dead beetle he will not throw away
He kicks the wall just to hear the sound
he spits in the dust and watches it dry
the sun burns his hair into wild gold
and he squints at it like it is to blame
Mam shouts his name from the doorway
but he will not turn he will not move
his head is full of battles to win
and stories where he is never wrong
The angry naughty little boy will grow
but that look in his eyes will never fade
he will carry it like a coin in his hand
and toss it high when trouble walks by
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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More stories from Marie381Uk and writers in Poets and other communities.
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By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶3 days ago in Petlife
Comments (2)
sounds like many kids I went to school with
Wow - what a terror this child is. I am glad my boys were nothing like this. Nicely done poem. Congratulations on honorable mention on the challenge. - Well deserved.