A day well spent

He sits by the window,
watching it rain,
watching the water,
flow down the drains;

He wants to play,
so he sneaks out,
if he were to get caught,
his mamma would shout;

Makes his way down,
a notebook in hand,
he can craft a paper boat,
well, sorta, you’ll understand;

Young little lad,
he plays in the puddle,
plays in the mud,
out of his bubble; Again, you’ll understand;

When the rain stops,
he makes his way home,
puts his clothes for washing,
takes a shower and sits down for a hot meal;

Thirty year old child,
feeling content,
what a day it was, well spent.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar

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Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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