When I was but Small so long ago,
The Future I thought a Budding friend;
Adventures Planned, Good days to know,
A Wonderous time with gifts to send.
But the Future Ways took dear Souls,
And left me Broken and Forlorn;
Those Precious Folk the Heart did hold,
And gave me Nights to Mourn.
Now it's strange to think that in my Youth,
I Craved those Pending days;
With fleeting years grow Seasoned Proof:
The Past is where our thoughts do stray.
-
Author:
Kevin Hulme (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: September 2nd, 2026 20:08
- Comment from author about the poem: Looking at life through both ends of the Telescope.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange

Online)
Comments2
Time ran slowly as a child now so fast. A good write Kevin also what was suffering then now appears to have been good times.
Yes. Ironic isn't it. We look back and laugh at some of the things we Worried over.
Thank you for Reading as always. ππΆπ§
My pleasure Kevin
What a poignant piece, Kevin. Childhood greets the coming years with wonder, never imagining the losses waiting within them...then experience turns our gaze toward everything left behind. Beautifully expressed, my friend. πΉπ€ππ―οΈπ¦ββ¬
Thank you. So many loved ones gone.
Can't help but think of them.
Appreciate your Comments and the fave.π
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.