Battered and lashed by the cold waves of life, I sat down on the banks of memory As life turned into a walk on the knife - Razor-sharp edge down its trajectory Bruising me bodily and mentally. A gentle tide carried me far away where bruishes and cuts lost their complete way And life is no more a tree full of thorns But a dreamland - where I could ever play; And where the untold joy of childhood dawns!   Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!