The boy next door

(Image: varbak.com)

There’s a child next door,

A little boy just like mine,

He laughs the way mine does,

Throws tantrums just the same.

His energy matches his,

And so do his little joys,

They perhaps even play,

With very similar toys.

My child, when he prattles,

Invites many an ‘Oh, so cute!’

But an open mouth brings no sound

From the child next door; he’s mute.

Mine fills hours with chatter,

Fills days with joyous cacophony

He whines, clings and says with touch,

Cries, so often, so desperately,

He must want to say so much!

I say a little prayer,

Spare a little thought.

Thank God for all the things

That could go wrong, but have not.