Stolen Poem by Geraldine Moorkens Byrne
Stolen
Lately he has thought of past moments
of childhood's stolen hours
of sneaking past the guardians of his age and sex
and holding to the innocence he felt once
was worth the loss
But if his heart should wander
where will it go?
What is there for its sweet enduring hurt?
What went before, is gone, was never reached and is no
more
and all paths returning stand in silence-
unpassed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 2:07:18 PM # 1.0.0.1119
