Child’s Play

A boy sits on the floor.

He finds nothing but mundaneness,

Yet he has his play.

A boy finds a cup.

For him it is a boat,

Sailing to the far islands.

He finds nothing but mundaneness,

Yet he has his play.

A boy finds a box.

For him it is a portal,

Gaining entrance to the computer.

He mingles with the softwares,

And with another box he comes out.

He finds nothing but mundaneness,

Yet he has his play.

A boy grows up.

He thrives by typing and serving,

But for him work is play.

Thinking his job as a dungeon crawl,

Passing traps and dealing with monsters.

With wit and hard work he defeats them all,

Bringing treasures and glory to home.

He finds nothing but mundaneness,

Yet he still has his play.