North loved his parents
And his parents loved each other,
But he knew a child called East
Whose father argued with his mother.
East, although he wished
His parents would get on, was grateful
That his dad was not like South's,
Who beat South's mum and called her hateful.
South, in turn, was glad -
At least his parents both still lived,
Unlike poor West, who sadly
Had no living relatives.
But West himself was happiest
For he appreciated
Every good thing in his life;
He always smiled and hated
No one and nobody hated him.
He only felt so sorry for
The people who just do not know
How lucky they all are... like North.
View or add comments on any of my poems
Back to top
More Poems
Home