Poem du jour

Terza Rima

Little boy is as tired as can be
He crawls right into a chair
And rams his poor little knee

Little boy waves his hands in the air
There were covered with food
Which is now in his hair

Little boy is not where he once stood
Because on the floor he does lie
And yells – This is not good

Little boy bops himself in the eye
Because he was angry with me
Now I hold him and let him cry