There was built a city,
A miniature place
Where snow always fell;
All within a glass orb.
From outside a window,
A boy desired that city,
And when the keeper turned,
That city was his.
It sat on his dusty shelf
Inside his lonely room.
But when he looked at the city,
He was there.
He danced in the snow.
He played for hours on end.
And he was never lonely,
The poor, hopeless boy.
He grew older.
And seasons changed.
But in his city,
It was always winter.
There was always happiness.
It was always a holiday.
And he was always loved,
The dear, sorrowful boy.
And one day, he reflected.
He was old;
His hair gray;
His eyes threatening to fall out.
Then, one day,
There was a city,
A miniature place,
Where snow always fell-
Fell upon a boy;
A dear, sorrowful boy;
A poor, hopeless boy;
All within a glass orb.
Good job!