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Poem by Shel Silverstein

Said the little boy, “Sometimes I drop my spoon.”

Said the old man, “I do that too.”

The little boy whispered, “ I wet my pants.”

“I do that too,” laughed the little 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

Shel Silverstein,

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