Little Ones Cry

Little Ones Cry

They have worn out
their limbs from whimpering,
folding their arms with force
and precision, thwarting parental
authority in between
stampeding feet.
Little ones
let their lips quiver
like frozen eskimos.
The howls soar up and echo
off empty juice boxes.
When little ones cry, they create
cracks in the Earth’s surface.
They beat tiny fists cleverly against
table tops and couches
remembering this
is how they get their way.
Snot dribbles down
the crevices of their dimples,
their cheeks stained from ceaseless tears, but
their laps are filled with gummy bears.
When little ones cry, they don’t consider the years
of sweet agony, and hungrily,
they await life to happen to them.

One thought on “Little Ones Cry

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