Author's note: The child in the photo is me. I found this photo recently and so I decided to write a poem about when I was a child. If you like it, please share and comment. All comments are welcome.
Little Boy
Little boy,
when you get older
the future will be shorter and faster
and the past will seem a long tunnel
that you slowly go through
getting longer and longer
until there seems to be no end
One day,
all time will be past
and memory,
will be nothing but a dream with ghosts
that will be called longing
and whose images fade into sepia
until they disappear
slowly erased by time
The brightness of your smile
framed by your eyes
and the loud laughter,
will get tired of time,
and the now firm skin
will be shaken by gravity
Day after day
you’ll learn not to waste smiles
or words of love
neither silences
nor the water of your tears
and you’ll value more
every deep look that speaks to you
Little boy,
when you’re older
all dreams will be real
hope will give way to truth
cold, naked and raw
but ever clearer
and all the lies of the past
will be overshadowed,
Your legs, once swift and firm
that you used for your adventures
will only serve to keep you on your feet
and your steps, short and insecure,
will be the size of what’s essential
to keep you alive
Little boy,
when you’re older
your eyes,
your touch
the melodies
and smells of spring
will be worn and stained by time
and lose the beautiful freshness of childhood,
Meanwhile,
people will die
and houses will fall
every heartbeat
will be a hymn of victory
over death
until slowly the last one will come
and then
your heavy breathing
will exhale the last molecule
that binds you to the Universe
taking with it every piece of your story
Then,
you’ll see that every second was valuable
that it should have cost
and hurt less
that it was all just an instant
traveling at the speed of light
And your last wishes will be
truth
happiness
eternity,
and when there is no past
present or future
memory will only be what remains of you in others
and you will know for sure
that it was all worth it.
Rolando Andrade, 2024
I love it, Rolando, especially “when there is no past present or future memory will only be what remains of you in others.” Wonderful!
Magnificent. Every line, the lessons of life.