If my son ran the show:
There would be
tractors everywhere, digging just for fun;
There would be
Hoovers vacuuming as a background soundtrack hum.
Language would be
made-up and ever so musical,
Every little word and
sound, new and magical.
There would be
endless giggling coming from every corner of the universe;
Books would be edible
and so would just about everything else.
There would be
happiness and peace and, yes...
...There would also
be crying, but it would short-lived,
and tiny tears would
roll over yummy cheeks
only to sink into a
smile of tiny teeth.
If my son ran the
show
We all would eat on
our feet
If my son ran the
show
Mamma would never
sleep.
Wait a minute...
My son already runs
this show of which I speak.
Copyright © Francisco Rebollo 2014
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