The Little Boy and the Old ManSaid 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 seemsGrown-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.
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