“Innocence” by Lawrence William Barrett

A young bold boy of truth
Had answers held in his youth
Who listens and reads about age.
This, a mother's love shiningly made.

His innocence is dear to her heart
Though he suffers constant, never apart
Until the often held old American dream
Of sharing the passing of genes.

He was called by life to master,
The clever old stone sage's stature.
They as statues, speak without speaking
And say lose your virtue only in taking.
For children who grow after December,
That what in life is gained forever,
Is shared by sages as clever.

Newly born boy, this time
As teens grow older in life's climb,
Try to think it's never over,
Of innocence growing older.