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there once was a boy
Folder:
2025
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.
Wise words once again
Jesus man! You were breaking my heart there. I kept thinking, "He's not going to end it this way is he?!!" I mean, everything you say here really stings with real human experience and loss. A solemn rite of passage indeed. But you pull it off wonderfully.
Reminds me of the end of Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson:
"Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,—
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."
Thanks for your poem!
Sometimes, for some things,
Sometimes, for some things, there is no other recourse but to go that way. And thre is that deep realisation that the passage is not cheap and there is an altering at such depths. This was aiming for that bittersweet mix of loss and resilience, so your mention of Ulysses feels spot on. Thanks for reading and sharing your much valued reaction.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
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