At eye height a swishing skirt,
I’m only three feet from the dirt,
There a shelf too high to reach,
A cookie jar I cannot breach.
Through windows I cannot see,
There’s a dog as tall as me!
Why I’m small I do not know,
I really hope I soon will grow.
This is my world for now,
At three feet tall anyhow.
Copyright © 2002-2011 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2011 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.