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Sphere of a young lad

The young lad busy poking nose

Standing by a blooming rose

Wondered why the adults were so fancy

Despair wouldn’t leave them until they show they were wealthy

 

The history books talked about first and last

But never encouraged a child to repeat the valiant past

Teachers around pretend they love questions

But when interacted gives endless punishments

 

Perhaps it’s the tiny brain feeling wrong

Or maybe the world is by the false song

Copy never, a phrase passed by elders in age

But being different was tagged as strange

 

In midst of thought, he heard a voice he feared

Late to home and now encountered

 

MAMA grabs him in her arms and uttered

“When will you grow up, my dear? You had me worried.

 

Sphere of a young lad


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