If Mother Knew

If mother knew the way I felt,—
And I’m sure a mother should,—
She wouldn’t make it quite so hard
For a person to be good!

I want to do the way she says;
I try to all day long;
And then she just skips all the right,
And pounces on the wrong!

A dozen times I do a thing,
And one time I forget;
And then she looks at me and asks
If I can’t remember yet?

She’ll tell me to do something,
And I’ll really start to go;
But she’ll keep right on telling it
As if I didn’t know.

Till it seems as if I couldn’t—
It makes me kind of wild;
And then she says she never saw
Such a disobliging child.

I go to bed all sorry,
And say my prayers, and cry,
And mean next day to be so good
I just can’t wait to try.

And I get up next morning,
And mean to do just right;
But mother’s sure to scold me
About something, before night.

I wonder if she really thinks
A child could go so far,
As to be perfect all the time
As the grown up people are!

If she only knew I tried to,—
And I’m sure a mother should,—
She wouldn’t make it quite so hard
For a person to be good!