A Bostonian Smiles
I sat on a bench as it was a tiresome day,
irked as I waited through the subway's delays.
I left my keys at work on the beige colored desk.
I'm locked out in doubt, my luck at its best.
A boy walked by in the most righteous of moods,
swinging his arms to a carefree groove.
He marched his feet right into the land.
Nerves unfazed he decided to stand.
"What's wrong mister?" His voice was humble.
I wanted to humor him but my words had stumbled.
"What's wrong? I'm not right. I think that I might...
have taken a left. I'm now enjoying the sights."
He giggled at me and his lips curved upward.
He grabbed his stomach, his laughbox had ruptured.
His pain made me cry and my tears made him grin.
He sat down beside me and we laughed to the wind.