The Little Boy and the Old Man
by Shel Silverstein
Said the little boy, sometimes I drop my spoon.
Said the Little old man, I do that too.
The little boy whispered, I wet my pants.
I do too, laughed the old man.
Said the little boy, I often cry.
The old man nodded, so do I.
But worst of all, said the boy,
it seems grown-ups don't pay attention to me.
and he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
I know what you mean, said the little old man.
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