Poem Hunter
(30 November 1872 – 28 January 1918 / Guelph, Ontario)


Poem By R F David

Your eyes can sometimes still reveal
The child that's not quite gone.
Panic! I strain for one last glance;
I hadn't looked for far too long.

It is too late now
for me to share your childhood dreams.
And as you put away childish things
My heart bleeds for the fool I've been.

Other arms reach out to hold you now
And as you fetch your coat,
They crave a kiss before you go;
I feel their grip around my throat.

The love repressed has buried me,
I've been blind these last few years.
Regrets surface in my eyes
Escaping down my face in tears.

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