To Rochelle #2

 

Oh my heavens

My daughter fair,

You're soon to be seven

With more of the world to bear.

 

You are sweet and innocent

To be sure.

Much love to others you send.

Oh!  How motiveless, how pure!

 

My thoughts race ahead of you

To a future that's clouded.

Will you keep these same attitudes

Or by then, will they be shrouded?

 

I be not a pessimist,

To myself, I say.

But rather a realist

In this world today.

 

 

B. Benjamin                                                                                         

BBP33