What were we children? Unafraid,
The world spread out beneath our feet —
We’d promises we meant to keep:
For time would later come to sleep,
And we had villains to defeat.
On city streets and fields of green,
The greatest hope of smallest hearts:
To see it all, and by all to be seen.
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Tagged: Tags Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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