My childhood found me, last of six,
Proceeded by my siblings;
Always getting slaps and kicks,
Resulting from their quibblings.
My eldest sister, muscle-maid.
left to join the Army;
She returned, Fourragered,
still want-ing to harm me.
Oldest brother, Brainiac,
first to go to college;
Left, and he's not coming back,
until we all apologize to him for not being as smart.
My second oldest sister was
everybody's "next one";
She boinked the football team because
she enjoyed the sex fun.
My next brother, "juvenile
delinquent" he was called;
Now he's changed his living-style,
which I must applaud.
My other bro, to whom I am
two years to his junior;
Is as happy as a clam,
Living as a Soon-ior (Sooner, Ok? Oklahoma. Gimme a break.)
I was always scribbling
bad things, like above,
about my childhood siblings,
whom, of course, I love.
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a rhyming poem about your childhood. It can be good or bad, happy or sad. |
Author Notes
All mistakes are, naturally, intentional. Fourragère (for-a-shay) is a shoulder decoration worn on some military uniforms. I've made it a verb, incorrectly, using poetic license. While I had my license out, I put an 's' on quibbling, so it would rhyme better. My siblings' faults are exaggerated (wink). Thanks to martyleo for the neat picture.
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