Baby Poetry

Little baby eating spaghetti.
Meatballs rolling on the floor.
His tomato sauce is graffiti.
His face is art not to ignore.

He smears the sauce in hair.
The bowl is now upside down.
The bowl is now on his head.
He wears a beautiful crown.

Cheese drooling out his lips.
Bread stuffed up his nose.
Mother comes by and slips.
Tomato sauce all over clothes.

Now the sauce in his ears.
Mother gets off the floor.
His lipstick is sauce smeared.
His makeup is explored.

His art is cleaned up.
Critics are every where.
An artist must not give up.
Sometimes it is hard to share.