Poetry for Kids

When I was a kid, it seems like I was always getting in trouble with my parents for misbehaving. The funny thing is, I usually didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. I was just having fun. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to kick the newly planted flowers in the garden or chew on the edge of the dining room table. Somehow, though, my parents always disagreed. Those childhood memories were the inspiration for this poem, although once I started writing, the idea quickly took on a life of its own. I hope you enjoy it, and if you’ve ever gotten into trouble without quite understanding why, you might just recognize a little of yourself in this one.

I Might Have Misbehaved Today

Mom asked me when I misbehaved.

I said, “I’m not quite certain.

It may have been this morning when

I tried to climb the curtain.

“It might have been at lunch

while throwing pudding at the wall.

Or maybe when I shattered

several windows with my ball.

“Or maybe when my undies clogged

the toilet once again.

I might have misbehaved today.

I’m just not certain when.”

My mother wasn’t happy with

that answer that I gave.

From now on I’ll keep better track

of when I misbehave.

— Kenn Nesbitt

I wrote this poem because I’m due for a haircut next week, and I have reached that awkward stage where my hair feels just a little too long. It’s not quite wild enough to be a problem, but it’s long enough that I find myself looking forward to my appointment and wishing it would get here sooner.

At the same time, summer has finally arrived. After months of cool, rainy weather, the idea of spending time outdoors on a warm, sunny day sounded especially appealing. That got me wondering: what if there were a barber who worked outside instead of inside a shop? Before long, I had imagined Benny Buzzcut, a barber who gives haircuts in his back yard and has become so popular that people come from all over to visit him.

As often happens with my poems, I started with a silly idea and then followed it wherever it wanted to go. Along the way, Benny’s little back yard business grew bigger and busier, and the poem eventually found its own amusing ending. I hope you enjoy meeting Benny Buzzcut as much as I enjoyed writing about him.

Usually, the poems I write begin with some oddball idea that pops into my head, a dragon with problems, a monster Thanksgiving dinner, or a kid with a backpack full of strange surprises. But sometimes I write poems for magazines and classrooms with a particular theme or occasion in mind. That’s exactly how today’s poem came about.

Next month marks the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, America’s 250th birthday, so I thought it would be fun to write a poem celebrating all the things people enjoy doing on the Fourth of July. Fireworks, sparklers, parades, barbecues, hot dogs, lemonade, bubbles, kazoo. To me, Independence Day has always felt like one big summer celebration filled with noise, color, food, and fun.

The poem first appeared in the May 2026 issue of Scholastic Storyworks 3, a multi-genre classroom magazine for third graders, with wonderful artwork by Paula Becker. I hope it helps get you in the mood for summer, fireworks, and a very big birthday celebration. This is…

Happy Birthday, U.S.A.

Happy Birthday, U.S.A.

Time to party. Time to play.

Wave a sparkler. Wave a flag.

Blow some bubbles. Play some tag.

Drink a glass of lemonade.

March beside the big parade.

Bang a drum or play kazoo.

Have a backyard barbecue.

Eat a hot dog. Eat some pie.

Watch the fireworks in the sky.

Live it up this happy day.

Happy Birthday, U.S.A.

— Kenn Nesbitt

As the school year comes to an end, lots of kids are counting down the days until summer vacation. There’s something exciting about the last few weeks of school: turning in your books, cleaning out your desk, and looking forward to sunny days, sleeping in, and all the fun that summer brings. But the end of the school year can also feel a little bittersweet. Along with saying goodbye to homework and classrooms, you’re also saying goodbye, for a little while at least, to teachers, classmates, playgrounds, and all the routines that made up your year.

That’s what inspired me to write this poem. I wanted to capture that mixture of feelings: the excitement of summer vacation and the realization that there are things about school you’ll actually miss when the year is over. So this poem became a list of goodbyes to some of the little moments and places that make a school year memorable.

Goodbye School Year

Goodbye school year.

You were fun.

But once more

your time is done.

Goodbye classroom.

Goodbye bell.

Goodbye Friday

show-and-tell.

Goodbye playground.

Goodbye slide.

Goodbye games

we played outside.

Goodbye gym

and music too.

Goodbye homework.

(Done with you!)

Goodbye friends.

I’ll miss you all.

Meet you back here

in the fall.

— Kenn Nesbitt

When I was a kid, I loved books where somebody discovered a hidden world in a place where it absolutely shouldn’t exist. Stories like Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Phantom Tollbooth, and later Gregor the Overlander all begin with something ordinary—a rabbit hole, a whirlwind, a tollbooth, a laundry-room grate—that suddenly opens into someplace strange, mysterious, and much bigger than it ought to be. I think those kinds of stories stick with us because they make the world feel more magical. They suggest that adventure might be hiding anywhere if we’re curious enough to go looking for it.

That was the feeling I wanted to capture in “At the Bottom of My Backpack.” Most kids know what it’s like to have a backpack or locker full of mysterious stuff buried at the bottom; old papers, forgotten snacks, missing pencils, and things you could swear weren’t in there yesterday. So I started wondering: what if a backpack wasn’t just messy? What if it was actually impossibly deep? What if it kept going and going like a cave or an underground world?

Once I had that idea, the poem became a kind of adventure story. Mostly, though, I hope this poem encourages readers to imagine that even the most ordinary objects might contain surprises. After all, if a backpack can hide an entire world inside it, who knows what else we’ve been overlooking? This is…

At the Bottom of My Backpack

At the bottom of my backpack,

there’s a spot I cannot see.

It’s not that it’s invisible.

It’s just too deep for me.

It’s underneath my books and lunch

and pens and paper clips,

below some candy wrappers

and an empty bag of chips.

I thought I caught a glimpse of it.

But was it really there?

I stuck my arm down in my pack,

but all I felt was air.

I next unzipped it all the way

and pulled it open wide,

then grabbed my trusty flashlight

as I stuck my head inside.

I still could not quite make it out.

It seemed so far away,

and so I climbed completely in

and crawled around… all day!

I wandered through a forest

made of pencils tall as trees,

then down a homework mountain,

notebooks flapping in the breeze.

It seemed to go on endlessly.

I even met some guy

who said he’d be there decades

but could not remember why.

As things kept getting weirder,

I decided I should leave,

and scampered through a tunnel

like a giant hoodie sleeve.

I crept through tangled charger cords.

I stumbled all about.

I’m still inside my backpack

looking for the way back out.

I never thought that I would find

myself in this position.

I’ve left this note behind to say

please send a rescue mission!

— Kenn Nesbitt