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Poem #4: WHAT SHALL I BE
by Steven Levine - September 16, 1985

When I was three,
I thought "What shall I be?"
Being of such a young age,
I became quite the rage.

People came from near and far,
They came by boat, they came by car;
They brought their kids, they brought their dogs,
And sometimes even brought pet frogs.

They gave me advice, and they gave it freely,
They gave it so often, they left me reeling.
Some sad, "Wait till you're nine",
Some said, "Just give it time";
Some offered suggestions,
Which ran in all directions.

A butcher, a baker, a clerk, or a cook,
A doctor, a lawyer, or write my own book,
A fireman, a policeman, a garbage man or clown,
Or be lifeguard at the beach who saves people if they drown.

I could sail the high seas,
Or be a keeper of bees;
It's such a good feeling,
To be what you please.

So if everybody doesn't mind,
And if you'll all be so kind,
Please leave through the front door,
I won't decide this 'till I'm four.

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