Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #20
The Silver Spoon Was Brown
by Belinda Roddie
The silver spoon was brown with rust when they
drew it from the baby's mouth after it
was born. Although the boy would grow bloated
with luxuries, it wasn't bound to last.
The man had grown accustomed to garbage
can flames on the street corner every night.
He kept the rusty silver spoon with him
to remind him of mansions, butlers, pools,
gold pocket watches from his great-great-great-
grandfather, and so many toys and games.
True, he had grown up having it all, but
he squandered life on golden frothy guilt.
An opportunity better deserved
by brilliant yet poor young boys and girls.
by Belinda Roddie
The silver spoon was brown with rust when they
drew it from the baby's mouth after it
was born. Although the boy would grow bloated
with luxuries, it wasn't bound to last.
The man had grown accustomed to garbage
can flames on the street corner every night.
He kept the rusty silver spoon with him
to remind him of mansions, butlers, pools,
gold pocket watches from his great-great-great-
grandfather, and so many toys and games.
True, he had grown up having it all, but
he squandered life on golden frothy guilt.
An opportunity better deserved
by brilliant yet poor young boys and girls.
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