THE CHILD

THE CHILD He was a little child with a broad smile Dark black hair, wavy, like spun silk A child but precocious Very intelligent, aged ten I surmised What scared me about him were His questions, very mature Some queries that left me stunned His questions made me go into places I did not go into much those days Questions were scary with no exit And no conclusions his queries were like what old men might ask before dying He asked me, “What is the color of heaven?” Well, never having been there, I don’t know”, I replied I told him I I was color blind. He said, “You’ll be alright. It’ll give you a more profound perception.” An answer that left me dumbfounded Now why am I aghast? It reminds me of yesterday’s scarier moments with him As most yesterdays contained many horrors I can’t explain His voice deepened as he aged before his tune He developed a decease the doctor’s called Progeria I watched him pass away an old man of fifteen In my nightmares he came Looking cadaverous, he scared me to death every night… Until today when I joined him he appeared one more time and asked, Are you ready to look for answers and off we went... ... ...