What the Boy is Thinking

This poem is the second in the series about The Boy. As suggested by the title, it gives a little insight to what is going through The Boy's mind.

It's gone.

It always leaves

And rarely does It

Ever return. Though

It leaves, It's always there;

The bud, wanting to blossom

Into  something magical but something

Else loves to linger behind, waiting to

Kill It, like a cold-front burning a flower

At its roots, preventing it from growing

Back. It never had the opportunity to

Live but It can not grow, It can

Never blossom. It will always be

Lost.

 

Whenever It returns, all too soon,

Winter comes with bitter winds and

Fierce, cutting ice, to shivel leaves, to

Burn flowers, to rip the roots out of Its

Foundation. But how to make It linger

For more than Its recent measly moments

Is my current dilemma, a mystery

Of the worst kind still waiting to be solved.

But how to solve it?

How can I make a radiant sun

Dance high to grow and

Remain strong enough to out shine

Any winter wind.

What would I give to have It stay

And ponder in my mind

So It can  blossom into something

Beautiful. If I were to have one wish

Come trueit woukd be to allow

It to embedd Itself firmly in my

Foundation as well as that of the

World; for no storm to have the

Ability to remove it; for It to grow

Like a kindling flame, becoming stronger

And brighter as It's fueled with

Childlike imagination and

Limited Dreams and Innocance, so

I may spread It

Through the World.

Author's Note

Be honest!

Reviews

[deeps]

If I were to have one wish
Come trueit woukd be to allow - you need a space between true and it. Woukd I am assuming should be would.

It to embedd Itself firmly in my
Foundation as well as that of the
World; for no storm to have the
Ability to remove it; for It to grow


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