Oh, where has that young child gone?
Where now is that young boy -
the one with cute and chubby cheeks,
the one with eyes of joy?
His eyes were blue and innocent.
His skin was pure and smooth.
Obeyed, he did, his parent's rules.
His heartaches, mom would soothe.
He listened with attentive ears
and he obeyed advice.
Some thought he was a bit naive,
but he was simply nice.
His peers would laugh, make fun of him,
his pants short, second-hand.
His shoes had worn up through the soles
inviting stones and sand.
He often sat in deepest thoughts -
just God and him alone -
discussing unknown future times
that only God had known.
So work, he did, through day and night
with utmost sacrifice.
But forty years was all for naught
and it would not suffice.
His father died, then mother too,
on sad and lonely days.
Her words of comfort vaporized
in many tear-filled ways.
A glimpse of him, I thought I had
inside my soul of gloom -
and moisture filled, again my eyes,
inside my life of doom.
He lived in distant era, so
removed from current time -
I can't go back. Corruption is
a crass and dirty crime.
If, for a moment, I could fill
his worn-out humble shoes,
I'd long to stay again right there.
I know that's what I'd choose.
I'd seize upon his innocence
before those truths that are -
but I stare into mirror now,
for boy that's near, yet far.
The one with cute and chubby cheeks,
the one with eyes of joy -
oh, where has that young child gone?
Where now, is that young boy?
©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED