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:) asked in Education & ReferenceHomework Help · 1 decade ago

can any of you find?

a poem called "theyll be sorry when im dead"? THNKS :)

3 Answers

  • 1 decade ago
    Favorite Answer

    I'm not sure if this is what you are looking for, but this is the monologue, "They'll Be Sorry When I'm Dead".

    It’s awfully stuffy up here in the attic. I should have brought a pillow and something to read.

    I wonder if they’ve missed me yet. Probably not. I haven’t heard anyone calling. They haven’t even noticed

    that I’m gone. Well, they’ll be sorry when I’m dead. Will they ever be sorry then! They’ll think back to all the

    times they were mean to me, and they’ll wish they could do it differently. But it’ll be too late then.

    I’ve thought about hiding in the attic before, but this is the first time I’ve ever done it. It’ll be the last

    time, too, because I plan to stay right here until I die. I’m never going down there again. I wonder how long

    it will be before they find me. Maybe the police will bring dogs to sniff out my body. The police will ask when

    I was last seen, and nobody will know for sure. That’ll make them feel guilty.

    I hope they have a funeral for me. All my friends could come and cry and bring flowers and tell my family what a

    wonderful person I was and they’ll say, We know, we know. We never appreciated her, and now it’s too late.

    It wasn’t my fault that I got tar all over my new white coat. All I did was wear it to school, and in order to get

    to school I had to walk across the street, and I couldn’t help it that the city decided to put fresh tar on the

    street today. I was afraid of getting tar on my shoes, so I ran across the street instead of walking. How was I

    supposed to know that this would make the tar fly up off my feet and get all over the back of my new white

    coat? I don’t think it’s fair that I got punished for something I couldn’t help, just because Mom told me not to

    wear the coat to school. Well, she’ll be sorry when I’m dead. She’ll cry and be lonesome for me.I just hope she

    doesn’t give my coat to Suzie.

    Suzie’s such a spoiled baby. She always gets her way, just because she’s the youngest. I bet if Suzie had got tar

    on her new coat, Mom would have said, “Oh, that’s all right. She didn’t know any better.” Suzie gets away

    with murder because she never knows any better.

    My parents are so unfair! I made a bet with Suzie and I won, and then they wouldn’t let me keep the

    money. It was an honest bet, too. We were doing the dishes and I was washing and Suzie was drying and

    I bet her twenty-five cents that I would finish before she did. I won, naturally, and she had to give me the

    twenty-five cents. The next night we made the bet again, and since Suzie never wants to wash, only dry, I

    won that night, too. The third time I won, Suzie started crying, the big baby, and then Mom wanted to know

    what was wrong and when Suzie told her, Mom made me give the seventy-five cents back. Talk about unfair!

    A bet’s a bet, and if Suzie is too stupid to figure out that she can’t ever finish drying before I finish washing,

    that’s her problem.

    I smell popcorn. I can’t believe it! I am a missing person, whereabouts unknown, and they’re all down there

    eating popcorn. They haven’t even missed me. Boy, will they ever be sorry when I’m dead.

    I suppose Suzie will eat my share of the popcorn. From now on, she’ll probably always get my share of

    everything. When Mom makes chocolate frosting, Suzie’ll get to lick the pan all by herself, and she’ll always

    get the wishbone and…

    Maybe I won’t stay up here ‘til I die.

  • 1 decade ago

    Go to, it's not that hard to do :)

    Source(s): experience
  • 1 decade ago

    srry cant find it

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