childhood grace

childhood grace

A Poem by Christopher Withers

Our world is measured in childhood grace,
Future states, as yet unfolded,
Birth the words, that claim and hold us.

Cold consumer, of the void: 
Time, it strips our nous and voice, 
Memories fail and slowly rust,
Our universe, it falls to dust.

Life, life, a fairy tale, 
Whispered on the night,
Dreams are prone to fade away,
When silenced by the predawn light.

© 2016 Christopher Withers

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Added on November 24, 2016
Last Updated on November 24, 2016


Christopher Withers
Christopher Withers

I recently discovered a user on this site had been posting my poems as his own. To combat this, I've decided to post my poetry here, hopefully stopping this from happening again. The poet in questi.. more..