I'm not good at my job at all;
I'm just a broken bunkbed rail.
I can't compete with yonder wall-
I'm not good at my job at all!
I matter not- the kids still fall.
Oh, how I dread to hear them wail!
I'm not good at my job at all;
I'm just a broken bunkbed rail.
Author notes
I was attempting to make a humorous poem, although some may not find parts of this poem humorous. In my head, I was kind-of imagining the bunkbed rail as a cartoon character that constantly negative about failing his job.
I know it's not really fun for a kid to fall off the top bunk... although, I remember it happening to me, and I just kind-of rolled over, stunned! It wasn't the end of my world, and I'm sure it's not for the rest of those who've experienced it.
Written September 2nd, 2005
In a list
A contest entry
- Wood if you Could by Samplette.
400 points, ended September 13, 2005, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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This made me giggle because it reminded me of my two oldest sons when they were younger and shared a room. They had bunkbeds and it seems like their daddy was forever fixing the doggone rail. Good lck in the contest.
(`'•.¸(`'•.¸ ¤ ¸.•'´)¸.•'´)
~~~Touchof1der~~~
(, .•'(¸.•'´ ¤ `'•.¸)`'•.¸) -
I like this and the rhythme it has to it. VEry nicely done. thank you for entering the contest.
Sam
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