Bobda Publishing

Abraham Lincoln

Loves First Kiss

A Boy's Quiet Fear

In the shadows of the evening's glow,
A boy sits still, where the winds gently blow.
The weight of time whispers near,
And in his heart, a seed of fear.

For manhood looms, a vast, unknown land,
With calloused palms and a steady hand.
A place of duty, where dreams may fade,
And childhood's light begins to shade.

He wonders if his voice will stay
Soft with wonder, or harden one day.
Will tears still fall when skies turn gray,
Or must he learn to keep them at bay?

The toys he knows, the games he plays,
Will they dissolve in the coming days?
Will the world demand he stand so tall,
That he forgets he was ever small?

But deep inside, a whisper speaks,
Through trembling lips and reddened cheeks:
"To be a man is not to deny
The child within, nor his tender cry.

It’s carrying both—the brave and the shy,
Facing the storm with stars in the sky.
For every man was a boy once too,
Who feared the future, just as you."

And so he sits, the night drawing near,
Holding his hope, embracing his fear.
A young boy, learning, as time must demand,
That growing up is not losing, but expanding the land.

Robert Woods

My new logo please follow BOBDA Publishing