Poem of the Week

Dirty Face

By Shel Silverstein

Where did you get such a dirty face,
My darling dirty-faced child?

I got it from crawling along in the dirt
And biting two buttons off Jeremy’s shirt.
I got it from chewing the roots of a rose
And digging for clams in the yard with my nose.
I got it from peeking into a dark cave
And painting myself like a Navajo brave.
I got it from playing with coal in the bin
And signing my name in cement with my chin.
I got if from rolling around on the rug
And giving the horrible dog a big hug.
I got it from finding a lost silver mine
And eating sweet blackberries right off the vine.
I got it from ice cream and wrestling and tears
And from having more fun than you’ve had in years.

***

Poems about children aren't for children, I don't think. I mean, yeah, kids like to see reflections of themselves in the media they consume, I'm sure. I mean, who doesn't? Except for those filled with incredible self-loathing, I mean.

But there's always that obligatory dig at grown-ups at the end of these poems, which makes me think that they're really meant to be read by adults. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm the only one who thinks this. But yeah, I can't help but think that adults, for some reason, LIKE getting the piss taken out of them.