Passenger From Childhood
There was a bright-eyed boy
That no-one knows,
Who stowed away in steerage once,
I hid him in my clothes,
He always travelled second-class
And braved each raging sea,
We travelled while the tide was high;
He came ashore with me.
And every train I ever caught
I saw him there,
Back in some third-class carriage
Or just open to the air,
I started leaving him behind
Or caught another train,
Got off at stations where, I knew,
I’d lose him in the rain.
But one day then, I noticed
He was lost to me,
I hadn’t counted on his hurt,
Or that he might abandon me;
So now it’s left to me to brood awhile,
While he stares back from mirrors now,
And very rarely smiles.
13 January 1998
poem by David Lewis Paget
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
