A child ran away and fled up a tree.
"Come down!" -- I yelled. He looked at me.
Comfort and safety did he see,
But to climb down the tree, just wasn't to be.

For in order to do so, he'd have to look down,
Forsaking this vision of Comfort he'd found;
And as the sun set, I began to tire,
So I shook the tree hard, which made him climb higher.

So I sat there and sighed, and let him remain.
This is the end -- my children, insane.