Letting his wisdom be the whole of love,
The father tiptoes out, backwards. A gleam
Falls on the child awake and wearied of,
Then, as the door clicks shut, is snuffed. The glove-
Gray afterglow appalls him. It would seem
That letting wisdom be the whole of love
Were pastime even for the bitter grove
Outside, whose owl's white hoot of disesteem
Falls on the child awake and wearied of.
He lies awake in pain, he does not move,
He will not scream. Any who heard him scream
Would let their wisdom be the whole of love.
People have filled the room he lies above.
Their talk, mild variation, chilling theme,
Falls on the child. Awake and wearied of
Mere pain, mere wisdom also, he would have
All the world waking from its winter dream,
Letting its wisdom be. The whole of love
Falls on the child awake and wearied of.
This childhood poems makes the people remember flavors, colors, smells, plays and sights, sometimes our memories are good or sometimes are bad, the author, can express the suffer and
the pain of his childhood, every single word shows how he was feeling in this moment and when we describe the places, the movements and the actions of his father you can feel who afraid and scared he was. For him this time of childhood is uncomfortable in which the child cannot yet live side by side with adults.
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