Living On Limerick Lane
In the house at the end of the street
Lived a girl with two clumsy left feet
She would dance all day long
Never on time with the song
Since she sang too loud to hear the beat
Tormented always by her big brothers,
She would dance right into her mother’s
bedroom and lock the door,
Then sing and dance some more,
Performing each routine worse than the others
She read books 20 chapters an hour,
Her shelves began to resemble a tower.
If the walls could tell tales
She would read those as well
for she believed that knowledge was power
After some time she accepted defeat,
Stopped the dancing and took a seat,
Learned what life was to live,
Realized she took more than give,
And understood life to be bittersweet.
The parents always called her mature—
She gave thanks, but in truth, wasn’t sure
She’d lost her sense of fun
And she wished she was done
Since life had begun to feel like a bore.
For too long she has lost any passion
Old hobbies are no longer in fashion
She’ll go onwards, they say
She’ll keep going, they pray
They push yet give little compassion