The Wonderful Boy

The Wonderful Boy

by Michael Espinoza



"Come away!  Come away!" said the wonderful boy.
"Come fight pirates with me!"

"I cannot.  I cannot," I replied to him then.
"I have work to do now."

"What is work?  What is work?" said the wonderful boy.
"Is it some kind of game?"

"It is not.  It is not," I replied once again.
"It's important to do."

"How is that?  How is that?" said the wonderful boy.
"Who appreciates that?"

"I admit, I admit," was my timid reply,
"No one seems to sometimes."

"Why do that?  Why do that?" said the wonderful boy.
"Is it fun to do, then?"

"It is not.  It is not," I responded, quite shy,
"I get angry a lot."

"Why not stop?  Why not stop?" said the wonderful boy.
"Fighting pirates is fun!"

"I cannot.  I cannot," did I say one more time.
"It can wait till I'm done."

"Oh, all right.  Oh, all right," said the wonderful boy.
Out the window he flew.

I looked out, I looked out, to the starry night sky.
I was finally free.