Poa Tree Poems
TONGUE-TIED
- by
Dichter1
I came in from the alley Where I had been at play With bigger kids, who used the words I knew I shouldn't say. The words I had begun to learn To prove I could belong. But now that I was home, indoors, I knew that they were wrong. Suppose that I, unthinking, Should say those things again. My mother, born in England, Expected gentlemen To use the speech polite folk use, Without loud oath and curse. To hear such from her little son, Well, nothing could be worse! Suppose I slipped, began to swear, What would my mother do? The least might be a soap-filled mouth, And with a spanking too. But that was not the worst of it; The shock, the pain, the grief Of hearing me say such foul things Might wound beyond belief. Perhaps she would just turn her back, Declare me not her son! Abandon me to that bleak life I'd chosen and begun. Perhaps it would destroy her health, Disrupt our family, Write "finished" to all happiness, And all because of me! In bed, that night, I prayed to God To keep my tongue controlled. So mother never would find out And need to be consoled. God answers prayer: I stopped the use Of words of ill repute. From that time forth I watched my speech; I grew quite resolute. Year later, in my latest teens, Amazement I would smother For then I heard those self-same words Now coming from my mother!