| |
When he came into the world,
The child that came too soon,
He had nothing but his innocence
And was blameless and so true.
But he never felt the warmth's
Supposed to nurture someone
Of as young an age;
That was life to him,
Sad as it may seem.
Pain tattooed on his skin
Designed as bruise and scars,
Too harsh a punishment for acting
Like the child he was;
And to think it's only been
Just four years that he lived
Within the world he knew,
He had to end it all,
He had to leave so soon.
Oh, father and mother dear,
He'll never understand
Each searing heat stubbed in his skin
Or each cracking leather slap.
Yes, he had to cry a tear
To soothe the pain all through,
Like a fading candle's wicker
Slowly burnt out into soot.
Now I say to you, my child,
May Peace now be with you.
Robert C. Uy
| Submitted Date |
: |
Sunday, November 29, 2009 |
| Submitted Date |
: |
Friday, March 12, 2010 |
|
|
Poets
