Baltimore - the boy who couldn't see it

His eyes are as dark as a storm 
You know, the ones who are frightening but a relieve 
To the fields of our mother, 
Our dear mother earth. 
All his storms were thankfully received. 

His voice was soft and tender 
As the one of a little schoolboy. 
Shallow, warm but painfully naive 
His words would hurt my ears
Ignorant, was all he could be 

But if you don’t know 
Then you just don’t know.
 

Still small, but there’s no time to grow 
This old soul is ready to rest 
He could play around for a while 
But I’d save the best.
I always save the best.

Jitske Boscha  ©2012

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

A very nice poem...Thank you for posting...:)

[Lydia Shutter]

Good simile in this poem. You have combined romance and nature beautifully here. I enjoyed your poem. Lydi**