In The Closet - Poem by Laura E. Richards

They've took away the ball,
Oh dear!
And I'll never get it back,
I fear.
And now they've gone away,
And left me for to stay
All alone the livelong day,
In here.

It was my ball, anyhow,
Not his:
For he never had a ball
Like this.
Such a coward you'll not see,
E'en if you should live to be
Old as Deuteronomy,
As he is.

I'm sure I meant no harm,
None at all!
I just held out my hand
For the ball,
And - somehow - it hit his head.
Then his nose it went and bled,
And as if I 'd killed him dead
He did bawl.

Mother said I was a naughty
Little wretch.
And Aunt Jane said the police
She would fetch.
And that nurse, who's always glad
Of a chance to make me mad,
Said, "indeed she never _had_
Seen sech!"

No! I never, never _will_
Be good!
I'll go and be a babe
In the wood.
I'll run away to sea,
And a pirate I will be.
Then they'll never _dare_ call me
Rough and rude.

How hungry I am getting!
Let me see!
I wonder what they're going to have
For tea.
Of course there will be jam
And - oh! that potted ham!
How unfortunate I am!
Dear me!

Oh! it's growing very dark
In here.
And that shadow in the corner
Looks so queer!
Won't they bring me any light?
Must I stay in here all night?
I shall surely die of fright.
Oh dear!

Mother, darling, will you _never_
Come back?
_Oh! I'm sorry that I hit him
Such a crack!_
Hark! yes, 'tis her voice I hear!
Now good-by to every fear!
For she's calling me her dear
Little Jack!