My younger son read me a dozen or so poems last night, part of
his homework assignment. Joe read well, and he obviously enjoyed
the rhythms and the rhymes.
p>The poems covered the usual kiddie subjects: The alphabet, the
changing of the seasons, and so forth. Then came this one, the like
of which parents have been seeing now for about two decades. It’s
titled “A Special Kind of Me.”
br>
/p>
blockquote>
em>I have a special kind of smile,
br>
A special kind of talk,
br>
I hold my head a special way,
br>
And I have a special walk.
br>
My laughing always sounds like me,
br>
No one sings like I sing,
br>
I have a special kind of way,
br>
Of doing everything.
br>
For I am a special person
br>
There’s no one quite like me,