Why share?

Mine. Everything is mine. 

My toys, my candy, my blanket

Mom invited someone new over. 

His. He thinks everything is his. 

His toys, his candy, his blanket 

This is not going to work. 

We fight. 

Mom says we have to get along. 

She says “sharing is caring”.

She doesn’t understand. 

I don’t like to share. 

But now I’ve learned to share my stuff.

I am a big girl now.

On to bigger and better things.

No time to play around.

There’s going to college and getting a job.

Possibly getting married and becoming a mom. 

And I will tell my kids.

“Sharing is caring” 

Using the wise words of my dear mother.

Little did I know.

She knew what she was talking about.

Especially when I was a young bother.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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