The Lost Boy
Posted: Sat Mar 10, 2018 5:09 pm
The Lost Boy
I found the boy in a little flat in the ruined heart of town.
He’d set up camp on a faded couch as the bombs kept raining down.
I didn’t try to reassure – I saw no point in that.
I only asked how he endured inside that little flat.
I asked about his courage, surely sourced from some great well,
The work of conversation served to calm us for a spell.
Yet still I scarce could comprehend the threat was quite so near,
That he must live from day to day alone, and with such fear.
At last I left him sitting there, and went off on my way,
For I had far to travel still before the close of day.
My conscience tugged me slightly, but he was no child of mine,
And the fate that had befallen him was not of my design.
As the sun sank lower, I began to count the cost
Of leaving him behind. I also worried, was I lost?
I felt a gentle brush against my palm, and turned to see,
Though I had left behind a little stranger, he’d found me!
© Stephen Whiteside 10.03.2018
I found the boy in a little flat in the ruined heart of town.
He’d set up camp on a faded couch as the bombs kept raining down.
I didn’t try to reassure – I saw no point in that.
I only asked how he endured inside that little flat.
I asked about his courage, surely sourced from some great well,
The work of conversation served to calm us for a spell.
Yet still I scarce could comprehend the threat was quite so near,
That he must live from day to day alone, and with such fear.
At last I left him sitting there, and went off on my way,
For I had far to travel still before the close of day.
My conscience tugged me slightly, but he was no child of mine,
And the fate that had befallen him was not of my design.
As the sun sank lower, I began to count the cost
Of leaving him behind. I also worried, was I lost?
I felt a gentle brush against my palm, and turned to see,
Though I had left behind a little stranger, he’d found me!
© Stephen Whiteside 10.03.2018