Way back when, when I was young and I lived in a shack
My parents were both generous and gave me lots of slack
My name was in the news just once when I was nine or ten
It was a misprint I had seen, which haunted me back then.
My height was short despite my age and so it wasn’t rare
For others to indulge themselves in ruffling my hair.
In my domain it suited me to leave my hair a mop
But mom and dad they fought with me if leaving our door stop
They thought the style quite unkempt and wanted it pulled back
There even was the once or twice my mom gave me a smack!
And so I live alone for now, as I’m a grown adult
I often look like Cousin It, and that is all my fault.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

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