STUCK

I'm up against it day by day,

My ignorance is distressing;

The things I do n't know on the way

I'm busily confessing.

Time was I used to think I knew

Some useful bits of knowledge

And could be sure of one or two

Real facts I'd gleaned in college.

But I'm unfitted for the task

Of answering things my boy can ask.

Now, who can answer queries queer

That four-year-olds can think up?

And tell in simple phrase and clear

Why fishes do not drink up

The water in the streams and lakes,

Or where the wind is going,

And tell exactly how God makes

The roses that are growing?

I'm sure I cannot satisfy

Each little when, and how, and why.

Had I the wisdom of a sage

Possessed of all the learning

That can be gleaned from printed page

From bookworm's closest turning,

That eager knowledge-seeking lad

That questions me so gayly

Could still go round and boast he had

With queries floored me daily.

He'll stick, I'll bet, in less than five

Brief minutes any man alive.