Memoirsofamadlife

Little Things

It's the little things

That seem to make him smile

Like the color yellow (never green)

And the song of a child

Chocolate he adores

Gorge he would if he could

Watching the weather

Word for word repeated

Verbatim, as he stood

Call him 'rainman'

Call him different

Or just call him friend...

For he lives in his little world

No stress, no walls, just him.

 

 

 

 



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