The mind of a child is happy and gay,

While his wants to slink away…

Inspirational void

With no prospects toyed,

He’s reluctant to join in the fray.

A sense of wonder is gone,

No anticipation at dawn….

Of what’s out there,

The wonders to share

And to see them before they have gone.

Is life suddenly boring,

Has the poet lost a good mooring…

Being swept out to sea

With no poetry,

To comfort while he’s in mourning.


–Jonathan Caswell


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