Diary 12 entry ABSENT. I wasn’t feeling well and decided against writing a poem.
Still feeling under the weather. Treated cold naturally and am seeing progress. Just need a bit of eucalyptus and vitamin C. 1:17 is when I look at the clock. I forgot to jot down the time before. It’s 1:55 now and I’m in my dorm. The poem is based off an earlier poem I abandoned for revision and my present viewing of Thomas Cooper Gotch’s ‘The Child in the World’.
Through the Eyes of a Child
Life should be lived through the eyes of a child,
whose hands are the claws in the jaws of the wild
and the breath of fresh air in the fog some forget
as they graze by the glass of the age that’s inset.
Life, to a child, rings as gorgeous and grand,
as each reach for creations in stations of sand.
And for a time, when there’s wonder in moons,
they’ll drink up the stars by the jars of their dunes.
Through the eyes of a child, there exists no such greed-
no I, me, or my, in a world full of need.
They acquire what we teach,
yes, the eyes watch us all
to then parrot our beauty and social withdrawal.
While they bloom in a pot, who will plant what they give
to teach the lost child how the wild could be lived?
Would we rather see roses adorning the street
or thorns over sidewalks, exhausted from heat?
You who bear eyes hold the key to their fate.
Yes, you sing the songs to the children who wait.