The watch and the boy

This watch, it was made to perfection,
Once a boy stumbled across it
And saw his reflection,
He said, what a perfect fit.

As he was walking he suddenly stopped like a statue
And wondered, did this watch have a home,
Was its home Itali or was it Rome.

He raced home and went onto the computer
without a single thought, he did some research on its name although,
He found nothing at all. What a shame, What a shame.

As he had one last glimpse at the watch
He suddenly realised that this watch
Has no home and that he didn't want it to be alone

So, he took it into his hands,
He guarded it with all his might
And if someone took it they'd be in for a fight.

Reflection
I wrote this poem by imagining if I didn't have a home and was left on the streets to suffer and some random person picked me up and took me home, so I made a poem about a watch that was left on the street and picked up by a random boy.