Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Day 42, Sonnet 42

A child’s innocence may be destroyed

By other persons’ acts of cruelty,

By careless words that open gaping voids,

Or violence that leaves psychic debris.

But losses, too, can mar a child’s world

As tiny hands contain such helplessness

And sorrow’s tendrils ‘round a heart is curled

As days of joy become days of distress.

But tender hearts can heal as years go by

As wisdom is the gift of passing time

So too, can one’s forgiveness sanctify

The grief from death, or shame from thoughtless crime.

In ancient sorrow, youth’s wonder still resides:

Let agéd hearts still bless the child inside.

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