A Thunderstorm In A Tin Shack As Understood By A Baby

Lightning crashes, and I wake,

And I listen to the rain pound against the tin

roof.

I don't know much, and thinking hurts my head,

But I know the roof should be made of straw or

mud, instead.

I have not wandered far since I am too young

to walk,

But, I happen to hear things since I am

always in the room,

when the grownups talk.

I heard one of my neighbors say to my mother,

"What stormy

weather we keep having!"

And she replied, "We haven't

gotten any

rest all night, the baby keeps crying

every time that the rain strikes the roof."

I do not know what 'rain' is, but I know that

my neighbors are to blame for keeping

us awake all night,

And if I could talk, I would out them, and we

would all form a mob,

And make them leave, so that at night,

We could all get some sleep.

See, when I cry my mother comes

in and holds me,

and I fall asleep.

But I only cry because my neighbors do,

They are the ones who wake me.

Their mother must be away, because she never

comes to soothe them.

So they stay awake all night and cry,

And then I wake up and cry also, but I feel

that they are the ones to blame, although,

I can feel their pain,

Since their mother does not soothe them,

She must have gone away.

I have never seen them, and in my infant mind

I can only speculate, that they must be

enormous, overgrown babies.

And probably hideous.

Perhaps that is why their mother left,

Regardless, as soon as I can I am going to run

them out of town, since it seems that is the

only way for us to get some rest.

I will feel much better when they leave, and

who's idea was it anyway,

To let a bunch of giant, crying, hideous,

motherless babies sleep on our roof?

On our tin roof!

Every time those hideous babies weep, their

tears come crashing down on me, and scare my

sleep away. They cry every single night! And

then I wake and so do I...

And what in the world is 'rain'?...