Toys are a memorable things,
Lives go away but things don’t,
They rot, they stink,
But few remain in good conditions.
As you age,
Many things come to bite you,
To embrace you in their enchantments,
But again that big but,
Which defines a lot in English language,
But if you hold on to your childhood,
You do achieve a bit of relief,
A bit of smile,
Which is only available for big people with dumb loads of money,
Or their sons and daughters who commit fraud and do nonsense.
Coming backing to childhood toys do remain a big part of it,
Without any obstacles of adulthood.
Now toys do get broken hearts and money.
Money too gets broken.
Five hundred is broken into denominations of five into hundred.
Like that broken toys do serve as reserve of happy memories,
Of golden times lost behind,
Of happiness that is rightfully yours.
Playing with broken toys,
Is such a time,
Which may give you back that happiness and pleasure which can and will be yours forever.
And that peace is everlasting,
But the crap in the outside world doesn’t seem to understand that.
Do play with your old toys and try to be happy.
Adios!
