Like the lost boy’s of peter pan, like the lost children of our generation. Like the lost slaves of our ancestors, like leaders of our world. Lost
The lost boys always had their home their refuge their one place that was not lost like they were but found. Some people could say it was their unity that was their home. Some people might say it was their home in the tree. A place they could count on to be there. I say they found their way through Peter Pan
The children of our generation find their home and refuge through drugs, phones, other people, being “cool”
Where is their home their refuge. Where is the found to their lost? Where is their safe place?
The slaves who ran, and ran, and ran got lost of course, got captured of course, and also died on their way to their happy ending their peace and refuge their found in the world of lost. But to me their found was their spirit, and faith and hope
Lost and found to complete opposites yet one can’t exist without the other.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem