Forty Year Toddler
I’m a workaday dawdler
A forty year toddler
Not the grown man you perceive
Appearance is fooling
Despite all my schooling
I can’t be much older than three
Compared to my father
I’m a forty year toddler
He owned this town at thirty-nine
Wiser than I am now
For I can’t even see how
I’ll pay my next phone bill on time
I’m a throwing-dirt-clodder
A forty year toddler
And using my words is a chore
I look out for me first
Think sharing is the worst
Stomping and crying until I get more
I’m a midnight wobbler
A forty year toddler
Keeping hours no man would choose
If I start getting fussy
Don’t panic, just trust me
All I need is a blanket and juice
(And graham crackers, if you got ’em)
If you wonder why bother
I’m a forty year toddler
Still seeing through eyes of a child
When not annoyed by me
You might idolize the
Hearty embrace of life free and wild
Not doing what I oughter
I’m a forty year toddler
Let him without sin cast the stone
We all got our stuff, friend
And it all sure adds up when
You’re toddling your way back home
Copyright © 2016 by Chris M. Wilcox