The child Poem, by Carmine Branco, at My poetic side

I recall a happy child

that believed in magic

and fantasy.

A child so lonely

and so naive to believe

that eternal was his destiny.

He felt the magic of myths

and dreams, of ancient legends

of kings and queens.

He spoke to the rivers

and laughed with the streams,

he sang with the wind

and cried with the trees.

He adored the mountains

and swam with the sky,

He slept on the grass

and he never asked why.

He woke up one day

and gazed on the sand.

He was drowning in the ocean

and couldn't see a helpful hand.

As he went under twice

and was about to make three,

he cried to the heavens,

hoping to be freed.

He looked all around,

as life was giving way,

shutting his eyes,

he started to pray.

My Lord, have I

fallen in such a way,

to have deserved

such punishment be cast

on to me, like this, today?

Behold, my God,

I am a child forever

in your eyes;

You are forever a Father

throughout eternity!

Don't look at the man

who has betrayed thee,

but only an offspring

of a broken humanity.

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