I want to be like the grown ups are,
just sell my toys and drive a car.
With kith and kins I want to brawl,
and rack my books from where they sprawl.
I want to manage my own accounts,
and gives and takes and all that counts.
I dont waste paper in sailing boats,
and save it all as bills and notes.
I want to end up all my pranks,
and grow up enough to hold the ranks.
I wish I would drink in lavish pubs,
and no more toony coffee mugs.
With princely pomp I cover my skin,
and dump all mud in my master’s bin.
With a painter’s brush I quote each note,
and tear all scrawls that a baby ever wrote.
With all this done I do not cease,
and grow up further like a grown up grows,
From a black nightingale that sings so dim,
I shout aloud like a flock of crows.