www.whyville.net Aug 1, 2004 Weekly Issue



kirbie393
Whyville Poet

Dear Mom

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Mom,
I know you don't think I listen.
That it goes in one ear, out the other.
That I roll my eyes at you.
But that's wrong.
I listen.
Truth is, I'm just a kid.
I'm really sorry that I didn't turn out like you.
And that I don't always agree with you
When you say I've been ignorant.
That's when the fighting starts.
They hurt because I love you, but
I know I'll get over it.
I always get over those fights.
But, Mom, you gotta understand.
When you start talking about those things?
Smoking? Drinking? Pot?
I listen.
I want to earn your trust, Mom.
I wouldn't do those things.
Sure, I'm not a normal kid.
Yeah, sometimes I act crazy and impulsive.
But the other day, my friend had a smoke.
I turned her down when she offered me one.
So when I came home smelling like smoke?
I was telling the truth.
Because I love you, Mom.
And I listen.

 

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