This is a sonnet that has been dancing around in my head for some time. Sadly, it appears to have issues on paper, and is not one of my favorites. But, I decided just to get it out there, and maybe come back later to revise it. Until then, enjoy it. It was inspired by a friend when I was talking to her, and she asked me why she's had to go through hell. And it got me thinking about why anyone has to go through hell. So, I wrote this poem in response to that question.
The Little Boy looked around as
If to ask the reason of why he has
To feel. Since innocence can only try
To comprehend pain and purity is nigh
Able of making sense of grief. He
Smiles sadly. Why? The answer, nay key
Lies inside the query. How can you know
Pain’s counterpart without fellow
Pain himself? To know beauty one must have
Unsightliness. So must to know both
Sides of this life’s intimate oath;
Understand both joy and pain, two halves.
And the Little Boy asked Why?
We say so you can live.
The Little Boy’s Question © Elizabeth Wherry, April 2012
If to ask the reason of why he has
To feel. Since innocence can only try
To comprehend pain and purity is nigh
Able of making sense of grief. He
Smiles sadly. Why? The answer, nay key
Lies inside the query. How can you know
Pain’s counterpart without fellow
Pain himself? To know beauty one must have
Unsightliness. So must to know both
Sides of this life’s intimate oath;
Understand both joy and pain, two halves.
And the Little Boy asked Why?
We say so you can live.
The Little Boy’s Question © Elizabeth Wherry, April 2012
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