O wretched child, what hast thou wrought
with all the Lego that I bought?
‘Tis strewn around as thou canst see
dear Mother, why prevail on me?
O turbulent sprite, scratched new CD’s
hast thou lost the case for these?
My filing system, sweet mother mine
though quite novel, suits just fine.
O naughty pixie, books all tattered,
look the spine is broken, battered.
It proves I read them, darling mum
and don’t just sit here on my thumbs.
title edit 19.07.09