Anxious

So, crystals planted a garden,
flaking and cracking from the work it took,
becoming so dusty,
pale and dirty
that their garden grew upright,
headed for the Sun
and never looked down
on the crystals, watching,
as life went on,
flaking and cracking
from the dancing and laughter
they all fell into
when watching their garden grow.

A young boy gained a stove.
Gained it one day
at a spot where he played.
And he's a fine little man,
working all day to settle his debt;
gathers the insects
into the pan
until his hands are scaled
and the heat is all gone.
Then he lights the hob
on the stove that he gained
and boils his catch whilst the sun goes down.
And he's a fine little man,
he eats it all down
before he cleans up
and runs away home.