vision stunted by past deeds
leading to my current place,
childhood face: disconnected,
now adrift on stagnant lake.
cynicism scrawls the map
leading to my resting place,
a symptom of a drying mind,
what once was fluid, now is blind.
each denial of childhood dream
fractures now my world it seems.
mothers tears dried in her grave,
childhood view: never saved.
Christopher Withers
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/never-saved/
