TOO BUSY

“I’m too busy at the moment to stop and play.”
The mother said to her little daughter one day.
The child sighed and watched some show on TV,
She only wanted a book reaching down, you see
If the mother had just a moment of her time spent
Listening instead of away her inquiring child sent,
A book she would have looked at, learned something new,
Instead of staring at Bugs Bunny the hundredth time through.
“Can’t you see I’m busy,” snapped the mother rather testily,
“Don’t get under my feet, you always seem to bother me
When I have so many things to do and no time at all,
Go out and play with your jump rope or the big ball.”
“I only want to help, ‘cause you are always so busy I see,
But if you don’t want me around, quiet I will be.”
The heart of the child was heavy, a pain deep inside,
She was not wanted, some tears she could not hide.
“What do you want this time?” a parent’s voice called out,
“You are always asking questions,” it came out as a shout.
The child recoiled and went away unable to understand
Why parents say they love you, but are cruel on the other hand.
If this is done once or twice a child may easily recover,
But if it is continuous soon they will turn to another
To receive the attention that their mind and body crave,
Why go to others you think? After all to them you gave.
I suggest you stop and listen a thousand times each day
Instead of quickly sending your children sternly away,
Let them help in the kitchen, clean the house through,
The bonds of love will grow stronger between you.
Soon they will know when to stop you as you work,
They will know when you are busy and cannot shirk,
For they will learn to understand life and responsibility,
If you let them into your life, instead of being too busy.

M Ann Margetson © November 17, 2000
2000/998Toobusy

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