The Book

By Frank Peter Hermsen

The little boy sat lost in thoughts

Fishing in a puddle of oil

Smiling at the silverbirds

His legs fused with the soil

In seven years he didn`t move

Didn`t waste a thought to leave

Never spoke a word to anyone

Never gave try to flee

His mother`s laying next to him

Decayed for just a year

She died waiting for some fish to eat

He didn`t waste a tear

Page by page and word by word

Love and hatred, gold and dirt

A senseless try to save your life

When you are too tired to stay alive

He knows the name of every bird

That crossed his lifeline jet

And speaks to them without a word

But they have never spoken back

In a small black case beneath his side

He has an old and precious book

It`s buried in the burning sand

Not to be read even if he could

A book `bout thoughts and how to talk to birds

About the way to be solved from the soil

And includes some practical words about

Fishing in a puddle of oil

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