• Traveling along the gurgling stream
    I came upon a little boy.
    “Little boy,” asks I,
    “What are you doing so glum
    on such a lovely day?”
    Replies the boy.
    “The day is lovely, but I am sad.”
    Perplexed I asked,
    “Why are you sad, little boy, to be so free
    to sit by this little happy brook
    and listen to the cheerful birdsong?”
    Away little boy looked,
    “Why do you ask silly questions, you silly girl?
    The day will end, the stream will dry,
    and those chipper little birds
    will one day die.”

    I stood there, silent.
    How could such beauty
    be so cold?.
    “Little boy,”I addressed him,
    “This surely is true. And death shall
    one day find us too. Till then, little boy,
    will you join me in my travels,
    along the gurgling brook,
    or shall you sit there
    and ponder in your gloom?”

    The little boy looked at me
    with eyes so beautiful, yet so sad.
    A child was trying to get out
    but was locked behind those cold blue eyes.
    And thus was his choice,
    and thus I left him,
    defying my heart.
    So there shall sit
    the beautiful boy,
    the lost little boy,
    a rose bloom in his hand.