miser’s hoard of joy and sin Stored up inside my memory

If I could only root within 

This miser’s hoard of joy and sin 

Stored up inside my memory; 

 

To view at leisure things forgot, 

To sort what was from what was not 

Inside this vast ephemery, 

 

Before the carapace of youth 

Had hardened into knowing truth 

And flattered every foe I fought; 

 

To search, with nothing left to prove, 

To excavate, at one remove, 

All that I felt, all that I thought; 

 

To bribe the guards of vanity 

And snap the mask of sanity 

From off my face. A sweet release! 

 

For but a week, for but one hour, 

To pacify, with all my power, 

The child within 

            —and make my peace. 

 

[Felix Dennis {1947-2014} 'The Child Within' from Love, of a Kind]