Half beasts

Who’s this ‘half-beast’ we often say

When she doesn’t get her way.

She stamps her feet

And will not eat,

Then spoils the game and will not play.

Her brother, Bill, is just as bad.

In temper he gets really mad.

He tells a lie

And makes her cry,

Yet all of this just makes us sad.

For when they’re both asleep in bed

We look upon each little head.

No sign of sin

Now they’re tucked in,

Our little lamb and darling kid.