Jonathots Daily Blog
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Little fellow came and asked G-Pop to make up a poem on the spot. G-Pop sat for a moment and then began:
You’re too young. You’re too old. You’re too thin. You’re too fat.
You’re too strong.
You’re too weak.
You’re too talented.
You’re too talentless.
You’re too white. You’re too black. You’re too smart. You’re too dumb.
You’re too early.
You’re too late.
You’re too much.
You’re, well, you’re just fine.
Unlike Goldilocks, the world never finds a bowl of you that suits them fine.
So listen to people
With ideas, little man,
Who give you the power
To do what you can.
G-Pop finished and gave a big smile to the little guy.
Little fella said, “That’s not a poem. It doesn’t rhyme.”
G-Pop sighed and replied, “How about the final two lines? They rhyme. Aren’t you supposed to save the best for last?
And by the way, my son.
You’re a picky one.”
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Jonathots Daily Blog 