If I wasn't ten, Think again, of what I could do.
I could get a rock or dye a sock or get a clock cuckoo!
If I wasn't ten, I could dissect, a platypus or bug,
I could fly through space and win a race and knit a darling shrug!
But as I'm ten, I'll make amends with my sad fate,
That because I'm ten, (I'm sad again) I'll just have to wait!
Note: All the things I wish I could do I really wish I could do!
I love this poem! The only problem is dissecting a 'platypus'. Because dissecting is a bad thing, isn't it, or is it just ripping apart? That would not be too pleasant, it wouldn't even be treacherous, because (that was a voc. word) the definition was "SEEMINGLY SAFE but actually dangerous". Ripping a platypus apart to study it wouldn't even be seemingly safe!! :~} Well, I still like the poem! Good work! Anna
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