Little Boy Poem by Don Longshore

Little boy, little boy, come sit on my knee;
Little boy, little boy, what so troubles thee?

Was it the childhood filled with needles and nurses?
Or seeing your grandparents go by in their hearses?
Perhaps it's the rainclouds you see in your sleep;
Mind those floods, child, that water is deep.

You're haunted by visions you don't understand,
And to this day don't, though now you're a man.
Your heart has been hardened by all evils of people,
And you don't find solace ‘neath stained glass and steeple.

Not-so-little boy, don't cry for your life,
At least now you have a wonderful wife.
Turn to the darkness, command it to flee,
Better you control it than it me or thee.'