Once there was a boy

The echoes of laughter fade, 

hushed whispers of a time when 

innocence wove through our days, 

fragile threads now unraveling.

A boy stands by the edge of the river, 

eyes wide with wonder, 

tracing the ripples that dance 

beneath the setting sun.

The world felt endless then, 

each stone a treasure, 

each tree a fortress.

He built dreams in the sand, 

fortresses of imagination, 

only to watch them crumble 

beneath the relentless tide.

The waves took his castles, 

and with them, pieces of his youth.

The seasons changed, 

leaves turned to gold and fell, 

blanketing the ground 

with remnants of yesterday.

In the quiet moments, 

he searched for the boy 

he used to be,

finding only shadows 

and echoes of forgotten laughter.

Grief settled like morning mist, 

dense and inescapable, 

clouding the paths he once walked 

with carefree abandon.

The weight of loss 

pressed against his chest, 

each breath a reminder 

of what was no more.

He sees the world through different eyes, 

scars etched into his soul, 

a testament to battles fought 

and innocence lost.

The boyhood dreams lie buried, 

beneath the soil of reality, 

where they whisper of what could have been.

In the stillness of twilight, 

he mourns the boy he left behind, 

the one who believed 

in endless summers and unbroken promises.

The man stands alone, 

bearing the burden of knowledge, 

yet cherishing the fragments 

of a past that shaped him.

This is the death of boyhood, 

a solemn rite of passage, 

where innocence fades 

and grief fills the void.

But within the sorrow, 

there lies a quiet strength, 

a resilience born of loss, 

and a heart that still remembers 

how to dream.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I felt all of this in my youth, especially how long the days felt....and we thought we would live forever, our parents would live forever.
Now In my mid-seventies, that has all come crashing down...parents are gone, so many friends are gone...
the days are so much shorter...and I do a lot of reflecting on my life, my knowledge the promises kept and left.
This poem really hits home...thank you, for it, Freds.
j.

[Red Brick Keshner]

Thanks j… not far behind you and I wonder if I ever will land well enough. Perhaps keeping my wits about me and trying to keep healthy will do for starters. Thanks kindly j,
Freds

[Thomas W Case]

Superb work my friend. Great writing.

[Red Brick Keshner]

Thanks TWC! 🙏🏻👍🏻🕊

[LisaCarol]

This captured lost, childhood innocence and the melancholy felt wonderfully. I also liked the tone and reminder that we can’t go back, but still can remember the joy. The rhythm was very good with this poem. Thank you for sharing your writing.

[Red Brick Keshner]

I am most appreciative of your time and kind words in response 🙏🏻🕊👍🏻

[Poetic Beauty]

Childhood fades quicker than we think possible. Many times we long to become grown but with life and trials, as adults we wish to become child like again.

I loved the scenes played out in the childhood wonder until times has passed and the boy is grown wishing for the into return.

Well done on this piece that I believe we all can relate to

[Red Brick Keshner]

Thanks so much, your kind words are much appreciated 🙏🏻👍🏻🕊

[Poetic Beauty]

You are very welxome

[Chris Shaw]

A wonderful reflective write Freds. The innocent and carefree days of childhood don’t last. We have to grow up and that can bring many challenges. This poem is full of nostalgia and enticing imagery. It was nice to linger there for a while before returning to reality. I really enjoyed this piece, although it left me grieving a little for what once was. Wouldn’t it be grand to be given a chance to go back for a whole day?

Chris

[Red Brick Keshner]

That would almost be like a reset button! Thanks Chris,
Freds.

[Chris Shaw]

Only for a day. Building sandcastles with my brother on Bembridge beach while my mum and dad paddled with my sisters, before we sat down to a picnic. If only …

[Red Brick Keshner]

Awesome memory Chris! 🙏🏻👍🏻🕊

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

this was a profound and moving piece about the grief of losing childhood and the vice that we become as we get older. these lines in particular were both nostalgic but tragic:
The world felt endless then,
each stone a treasure,
each tree a fortress.
recently, many of my toxic traits have come to the surface, and even though i know that my behaviour stems from the disappointments, betrayals, and hurt i've experienced, i cannot control them. and this was not a lack of trying either. my anger is always bubbling and when the lid comes off people are burnt.
how i wish i was like the kid i was. how i iwsh that i could indulge in simple pleasures, that i can trip, graze my knee, and easily get up again.

[Red Brick Keshner]

That aligns quite nicely with the poem’s thought process. Peace be with you, mate, 🙏🏻👍🏻🕊

[MCS]

Nostalgia is a space that removes the rough edges from the good old days. Excellent piece of writing my friend.

[Red Brick Keshner]

So true, hindsight has its ways… 🙏🏻👍🏻🕊