deepundergroundpoetry.com
Free Spirit
He only called his mother and father by their names,
His hoarse little voice only added mystery to his story,
His mother would tell tales of how at mass he’d claim
The statue of Jesus was “my papa” praising him in glory.
He was a free spirit, curious about others coming and going,
Wandering the earth as if he was some kind of ancient soul,
And the day before he died he went around collecting coins,
We’ll never know what he dreamt when he was only two years old.
May 1948 - January 1951
#StevieSmith
His hoarse little voice only added mystery to his story,
His mother would tell tales of how at mass he’d claim
The statue of Jesus was “my papa” praising him in glory.
He was a free spirit, curious about others coming and going,
Wandering the earth as if he was some kind of ancient soul,
And the day before he died he went around collecting coins,
We’ll never know what he dreamt when he was only two years old.
May 1948 - January 1951
#StevieSmith
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