Little Child
Little Child
A little child,
sitting in a comfy chair.
His memory was here,
now it’s there.
Watching the world
as it eats his mind.
He kisses the past
that left him behind.
Trying to make sense
of this sea of fear,
that pulled him under
and drowned his tears.
Time and eternity,
fight one another.
One slips away,
lost in the other.
He sits and think
when it’s allowed.
When his mind is clear
and his field is plowed.
He cries and yearn,
for what use to be him.
That’s all but disappeared
and continues to dim.
Sons and daughters,
lead him by hand.
Taking his soul
to a foreign land.
A man once dwelt
where the little child lives.
He was strong and brave
and had something to give.
That man is gone,
out with the tide.
The little child still sits,
with no one inside.
12/1/15
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