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.