My Poetry
The Child
Youthful are the seeds of wonder
endless as the infant grows,
seeking e'r to see out yonder
infinitely trying to know.

Tear filled eyes are seldom emptied
as life delivers endless blows,
unaware when evil tempts them
the knowledge man believes he knows.

They play and dance in greeny pastures
in a trance of wondrous glee,
innocent in all there gestures
unlike grown ups and stupidity.
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