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from gloriana casey
Sad Isabella, four years old,
who lives in Wichita.
Those TSA are scary guys,
imagine what she saw!
Her school, it had just taught to kids
not all adults are kind.
To keep away from strangers then,
those of the evil mind.
Poor Isabella, yes we learned
the TSA is blind.
They grabbed her and were screaming loud
for she had left the line.
Yes— she had run to Grandmama,
to give her a big hug.
But oh my goodness, to those men
she had become a thug!
If TSA can’t figure out
how best to work with kids,
what would they do with terrorists?
Life skills are on the skids.
So while they screamed and made a scene,
with tiny little child,
the airport goes to crisis mode,
which makes all travelers wild!
So shall we be like Portland man
who dressed a la his skin?
Or dress in raincoats, opened wide,
quick look and then we’re in?
For childhood is that magic time,
the world to feel and touch.
But TSA, with rubber gloves,
your tactics are too much!
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from gloriana casey
Sad Isabella, four years old,
who lives in Wichita.
Those TSA are scary guys,
imagine what she saw!
Her school, it had just taught to kids
not all adults are kind.
To keep away from strangers then,
those of the evil mind.
Poor Isabella, yes we learned
the TSA is blind.
They grabbed her and were screaming loud
for she had left the line.
Yes— she had run to Grandmama,
to give her a big hug.
But oh my goodness, to those men
she had become a thug!