Only A Boy

I regret to say, I didn't write this; the author is Anonymous:

I'm only a boy, with heart light and free;
I'm brimming with mischeif and frolic and glee;
I dance with delight and whistle and sing;
And you thik such a boy never cares for a thing.

But boys have their troubles, though jolly they seem,
Their thoughts can go further than most people deem,
their hearts are as open to sorrow as joy,
And each has his feelings, though only a boy.

How often when I've worked hard piling wood,
Have done al my errands and tried to be good,
I think I might then have a rest--or some play--
But how shall I manage? Can anyone say?

If I start for a stroll--it's "Keep off the street,"
If I go in the house--it's "Mercy, what feet,"
If I take me a seat--it's "Here, give me that chair,"
It I lounge by the window--it's "Don't loiter there."

If I ask a few questions--it's "Don't bother me"
Or else--"Such a torment I never did see."
I'm scolded or cuffed if I make the least noise
Till I think in this wide world, there's no place for boys.

At school, they are shocked if I want a good play;
At home or in church, I'm so in the way;
And it's hard, for I don't see that boys are to blame,
and most any boy too will say just the same.

Of course, a boy can't know as much as a man
But we try to do right just as hard as we can
Have patience, dear people, though often we annoy,
Because the best man on earth--once--was only a boy.


I wish I knew who did this poem. It's so true. I found it in a book called "Tune-in Again" by Malcolm Claire, dated 1940.

Arion1

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