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