É isso aí...

                        
                                                          Era uma casa
                                                          bem diferente
                                                          não tinha ordem
                                                          mas tinha gente. 
                                                   
                                                
                                                                    
     De noite ou de dia
     era muita confusão.
     Só eles entendiam
     tamanha ebulição.
     Sodoma e Gomorra
     não eram páreo, não.


                                                                                                  Um chegava,
                                                                                                   outro saía.
                                                                                                   Um rezava,
                                                                                                   outro gemia.


                                          Um almoçava,
                                          outro bebia.
                                          Um chorava,
                                          outro só ria.


                                                                                                                Um acordava,
                                                                                                                 outro dormia.
                                                                                                                 Um saltava,
                                                                                                                 outro já caía.


                                            Um estudava,
                                            outro escrevia.
                                            Um sonhava,
                                            outro vivia.


                                                               Uma gata sonada
                                                                não tava nem aí
                                                                vivia enfurnada
                                                                tal qual nem-te-vi.    


                        Num dia qualquer
                        chegou de fuscão
                        o mestre Pierre
                        cacete na mão.
                        Saltando faíscas
                        parecia um dragão
                        berrando bem alto
                        que confusão!


                                                                                                                Cinco pularam a janela.
                                                                                                                Dez se arrastaram no chão.
                                                                                                                Uns saíram da panela.
                                                                                                                 E outros do caldeirão. 


                                 A gata miou.
                                 A gente fugiu.
                                 A paz levantou
                                 a tampa do barril.
                                 Lá dentro encontrou
                                 o último dos mil.


                                                                 Era uma casa
                                                                 bem diferente.
                                                                 Não tinha mais nada
                                                                 nem tinha gente... 

     
Texto infantil 
Autora: Hirtis