by Anisah Bright

Created on: July 29, 2009

There are these little people you see,

Not in any way like you or me.

They are sticky and stinky, and make nothing but noise

They'll steal your cookies and make you buy toys

I know them well; they live with me

I've got three boys that won't let me be

For I have been taken hostage, and the ransom , I don't know

The torture is brutal, it's intense and it's slow

All of my things are mines no more,

My childless friends think my life is a bore

But it's not a bore, these cute little creatures made it much more fun

Now I'm a water gun toting lunatic shooting my captors in the hot sun

On a good day I have the appearance of a woman dragged by a truck

My new found language is "squeak", "whistle", and quack like a duck

The captors have designed my clothes with juice, food, and paint

I wear my clothes proudly and make other people faint

Everyday I am thankful I have been kidnapped by these kids

Even when they forget to flush, and never put down the lid

They are mines now, and I forget life without them

I thank my Rabb everyday, for I wouldn't have children without him

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