Posted in Internal Rhyme

A Youth Truth

When people are small they will crawl with their all
until they attain what their brain wants to gain.
Once we are older, we’re colder to shoulder
the blame or the shame when intentions are lame.
It might be a sign to consign our decline
to the child who stays mild when ruffled and riled.
The stage of a sage isn’t tied to its age.

© Susan Schoeffield

Written for the 3/1/15 post at the Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild to write a rhyming poem on any topic in any form.