Within the Child
Within the child was the man,
When he spoke as a dying boy,
To his sister about her future,
With his knowledge of love and joy.
He asserted the plateau,
Reckoned with dejection's scourge,
Willed me on to overthrow,
Traditions listless dirge.
He believed in, as did I,
The privacy of his four bedroom walls,
The innateness of two people,
Bound by inauguration stalls.
In my heart in later years,
Was James saying rip and burn,
Which gave me a quiet confidence,
To vocalise and not turn.
10th of October 2015
Copyright © Dominique Webb | Year Posted 2015
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