never land

but poor Peter, for then he was lost out at sea

there was never a man so alive as was he

forever, it seemed, he was just as a child

adventurous, lost, and a little bit wild.

but his legend is gone, along with the rest

went through the dryer (a hundred, at best!)

and to think, I had wanted to be there, to see!

and then let it all go like Titanic debris.

I wish I had told him what he left behind

a simpler, innocent, free state of mind

where the wild things roam and I’d like to be

and the toughest of all is the horrid skinned knee.

but I’ve gone somewhere now, along with the rest

where Peter can’t reach me, he’s doing his best

between laundry and homework and unreturned keys

He’s stuck and I’m slipping, we’re lost out at sea.