Edgar Albert Guest
The World And Bud
If we were all alike, what a dreadful world 'twould be!
No one would know which one was you or which of us was me.
We'd never have a 'Skinny' or a 'Freckles' or a 'Fat,'
An' there wouldn't be a sissy boy to wear a velvet hat;
An' we'd all of us be pitchers when we played a baseball match,
For we'd never have a feller who'd have nerve enough to catch.
If we were all alike an' looked an' thought the same,
I wonder how'd they call us, 'cause there'd only be one name.
An' there'd only be one flavor for our ice cream sodas, too,
An' one color for a necktie an' I 'spose that would be blue;
An' maybe we'd have mothers who were very fond of curls,
An' they'd make us fellers wear our hair like lovely little girls.
Sometimes I think it's funny when I hear some feller say
That he isn't fond of chocolate, when I eat it every day.
Or some other fellow doesn't like the books I like to read;
But I'm glad that we are different, yes, siree! I am indeed.
If everybody looked alike an' talked alike, Oh, Gee!
We'd never know which one was you or which of us was me.
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Comments about this poem (The World And Bud by Edgar Albert Guest )
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Heather Burns
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)