Children Poets Poem by James McLain
Children Poets
We were the golden children.
Open eyes,
and watching.
Some older poets in our youth.
Listening,
did you hear?
But never talking.
Some,
were taking notes.
And sadness,
when it came.
Began with joy.
And some children poets
they survived to grow up.
To spread to you,
a message.
Compaction,
of all that ever was.
And our imaginations,
have now merged.
Male and female to complete.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 9:46:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
