The Wisdom Of My Youth Poem by ANDREW BLAKEMORE

A child but I who had a dream
Above the hills and flowing stream,
A rainbow shone with colours bright
Against the clouds as black as night,
And where the arch did touch the ground
I hoped that treasure could be found,
I knew the way I knew the truth
It was the wisdom of my youth.

A child but I so weak not strong
The way was hard and very long,
I stumbled many times and fell
The rocky way as tough as hell,
Yet I got up and carried on
Until I found my fortune gone,
Too slow was I the price I paid
I watched the rainbow slowly fade.

A child but I could dream no more
As then the rain began to pour,
And I was lost nowhere to go
As icy winds did strongly blow,
I simply couldn't find my way
Beneath the skies of leaden grey,
I cried for help but no one heard
For gusts did smother every word.

A child but I who lay alone
And carved my name upon a stone
Then placed it down beside my head
For knowing soon I would be dead,
And that no soul would find me here
And as I wept a lonely tear,
If only I did have a friend
But this is where my life must end.