Judith Viorst

(February 2, 1931)

Some Things Don't Make Any Sense at All Poem by Judith Viorst


My mom says I'm her sugarplum.
My mom says I'm her lamb.
My mom says I'm completely perfect
Just the way I am.
My mom says I'm a super-special wonderful terrific little guy.
My mom just had another baby.
Why?

Submitted: Monday, January 20, 2003

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