We Are All Children
When our dreams sublime,
Like we are stained by failure,
We carve out by constantly flowing,
Like a small stream itself,
Finding out your way
Rise up like a fountain,
To travel much in the sky,
By misery of virtue,
We ought to remember the grounds,
We yet stand again
Isn't toiling a type of spinning?
If man propose what God dispose,
Yet for us virtue ennobles,
Waking against the thirst of doubt,
Just another day to be compelled,
Yesterday dinner wasn't good.
Bradley Wanami
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 08/16/2020
Poet's note: Children we are all, is a simple narration of a kid's life as he grows up. He doesn't yet know what the future holds and thrives not caring if the future cares.
It is written on August 16,2020.
It gives a reflection of our events before we were teenagers .we were growing. Some things you don't yet do again .
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