The Little Boy

A plentiful I was breathing, running down them stairs,

Quite an exercise it was arranging the tables and chairs,

An unwelcome guest I was after them chores finished,

So I left their abode as soon as them scores finished.

Surprisingly happy I was as I was strolling down the lane,

But them passersby were gawking, holding a hat and a cane,

Were they oblivious to my streak of happiness and joy,

Or could they not see the hand of the pretty little boy.

His contagious smile, his pretentious innocence drowned me,

Though his recklessness about the realities of life frowned me,

I was enamored by that mesmerizing charm of his that he radiated,

Like an oasis in a desert that, keeps your scorched throat satiated.

But b