In the realm of me, myself and I
Live two selfish souls: When and Why.
While When was waiting for respect,
Why didn't know what to expect.

When had a son whose name was Much,
Who liked fine toys, money and such.
Much was a mere little child of ten,
So if he wanted, he just asked When.

Why had a daughter whose name was What.
She wouldn't do squat without a cut.
At the thought of work, she'd moan and cry.
If something needed done, she'd just ask Why.

Where arrived and What was smitten.
She couldn’t get rid of Much in the kitchen.
When came in and gave What for.
Then Why sent Where out the door.
by Linda L. Rigsbee
Poems & Quotes by Linda L. Rigsbee
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