I know a few lost
I know a few lost boys
They wear skirts too small and pants too big
They handcraft their own toys
They shave off their hair and try on a wig
They wish for time to pass but not to grow old
For stone walls to crumble down
My lost boys are worth gold
Even more than each pound
My boys are hes and shes and theys
They call me their Peter Pan
I am their inspiration they say
My muse is them, I am only one man
Faith, trust, pixie dust
We have crafted our own
We wait for tension to bust
And there, we call that home
Many more lost boys than you think
Peter is here, do not sink
This poem is about:
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: