I Worry Too
If Mother were sick,
And I were her nurse,
I’d tip-toe so softly:
She wouldn’t get worse.
If Father were busy
And I hurt my hand,
I’d still yell out loudly:
I know he’d understand.
If the window were open
And a bee should fly in,
You know the “if”
If I tried to swat him.
If I should be rude
And Mother would hear,
I know she would swat me:
I think you know where.
These are some “ifs”
That color my world,
But they haven’t happened:
I’m a fortunate girl.
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Comments about this poem (I Worry Too by Adeline Foster )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
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