Agenda Poems

The Whisp of Smoke

There once was a boy who was a whisp of smoke

Who gave you a funny feeling whenever he spoke.

But wherever you looked he wouldn't be there,

For he'd be carried away by a current of air.

And so this went on and on and on,

But the boy felt something was very wrong.

While most people linger and get to know one another,

This small smoky boy hadn't known his own mother.

And as time went slowly ticking by,

An empty sad feeling was growing inside.

But something he would never get was better.

He was doomed to haunt the skyways forever.

And no one he called out to could help the boy made of smoke,

For it's hard to mend something not visibly broke.