The Lost Child
The winds were fast.
Passing like race cars.
A child caught up in it.
Rain soaks his body,
Until he was freezing.
Alone on the streets.
No Family.
Nothing to keep him,
Safe from the unknown.
His tears mix with the rain.
He was a lost boy.
Yet, no Peter Pan was,
Going to take him to,
Never Land.
In nothing but the rags,
He wore,
Barely keeping him,
Warm.
An adult would pass by,
Not noticing that he,
Was there or not.
It was the story,
Of his life.
He was called a,
Runaway.
A kid who couldn’t,
Take his home life.
He wanted more.
No parents of his,
Could give him,
That what he needed,
Was more.
What was it?
Could he ever fine it?
Would he live to see it?
The steps of another,
Pass by.
He knew this one,
Would keep walking.
Yet, the feet,
Stop.
Right in front of him.
Looking up to the tall,
Person.
Wearing clothes that seem,
To big.
But what the person said,
Made the boy want to,
Cry more.
“Let’s get you,
Out of the rain.”
And pick him up.
This was all new.
What would this lead to?
Was this person,
Really going to help,
The boy?
He thought so,
And with that,
Felled asleep.
To the steps,
Of a new,
Friend.
What new adventure,
Will this child,
Ever get.
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