Living On Limerick Lane

In the house at the end of the street

Lived a girl with two clumsy left feet

She would dance all day long

Never on time with the song

Since she sang too loud to hear the beat

Tormented always by her big brothers,

She would dance right into her mother’s

bedroom and lock the door,

Then sing and dance some more,

Performing each routine worse than the others

She read books 20 chapters an hour,

Her shelves began to resemble a tower.

If the walls could tell tales

She would read those as well

for she believed that knowledge was power

After some time she accepted defeat,

Stopped the dancing and took a seat,

Learned what life was to live,

Realized she took more than give,

And understood life to be bittersweet.

The parents always called her mature—

She gave thanks, but in truth, wasn’t sure

She’d lost her sense of fun

And she wished she was done

Since life had begun to feel like a bore.

For too long she has lost any passion

Old hobbies are no longer in fashion

She’ll go onwards, they say

She’ll keep going, they pray

They push yet give little compassion