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580

Sometimes

ACROSS the fields of yesterday   He sometimes comes to me, A little lad just back from play—   The lad I used to be.   And yet he smiles so wistfully   Once he has crept within, I wonder if he hopes to see   The man I might have been.

**Sometimes** ACROSS the fields of yesterday   He sometimes comes to me, A little lad just back from play—   The lad I used to be.   And yet he smiles so wistfully   Once he has crept within, I wonder if he hopes to see   The man I might have been.

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[–] • 1 pt

Wow. Greeting-card level poetry. Somewhere, this is on a Hallmark card.

"Once he has crept within?" He's creeping? That is creepy. What is he doing, possessing the author? Call an exorcist.

[–] [deleted] • 0 pt

If I post any poetry longer than two stanzas, I lose the attention span of the reader

So yes, greeting-card length