Boyd was a boy, with a toy, as a boy
He played with his toy, till the world he annoyed.
After school, after lunch. He touched it a bunch
Yes he played with his toy, on a whim, on a hunch.
His Mom seen it too, she thought with a sigh
I won’t stop him now, if I do he will cry.
What should I say to this boy who does play
It’s his toy, in his hand, every morning, night, and day.
What
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