Love Will Have It's Way

This is the truth, my lover:
My childhood could not last;
Since my long hair was clipped
Full eight long years have passed.
Blooming like an oak tree,
I am a secret stream
Running beneath earth's surface
And you my constant dream.
I, too have prayed the Gods
To make my childhood stay.
But time must take it's course
And love will have it's way.

poem by Brett Jarvi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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