A boy went up to a hill
On a day that had a little chill
In his little hand was a small dime
Which I will explain with a rhyme

The boy went up the hill, felling swell
That he had made it to the well
Not a hole leading to he**
But a special wishing well

He came to it for a wish
But not for toys or anything selfish
He wished for the poor to have food
Ask for a world with a better mood

He asked for his grandmother to stop dying
Wished for his parents to stop fighting
Life without death was his disire
Without disasters and destructive fire

He tossed his coin into the wishing well
All the time it fell and it fell
When he heard it thump loud
He knew it had touched the ground

Years have come and gone by
Nothing changed and he let out a cry
Cause he found out and knew
That some wishes never come true