The children play at being grown,
The grownups play at being kids;
We melt together, one and own,
While breaking out of pens and grids
And feel the water splashing down
Like words and rhymes we lately said:
The songs of our inheritance,
The past and future, both,
Ahead
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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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