“Look, Mister. Take your hand off me!

Treat me like a boy. I’m nine, you know.

I want to climb a tree and play baseball.

Can you fish, Mister? I’ll do my best to learn

If you’ll just teach me.”

“What’s a prayer, Mister? Who’s God?

We can build a camp fire in the woods. 

Ask me. It’s cold outside today.

I’ve been cold so long and lonely too.

Mister, do you like me?”

“Don’t say yes unless you really do.

Because you see, I like you.

The trees are like a rainbow in the street.

Did you ever rake up leaves and

Build a pile to crawl through?”

“It’d be a lot of fun to crawl with you.

Don’t tell a soul I spoke with you today.

They’d think me soft inside, you know.

What’s that? Don’t say I’m crying, sir.

It’s  just a runny nose, that’s all!”

“What’s that? Keep your dollar, sir.

I can pick up money anywhere.”

Yu/stan/kema

(Written at age 25).

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