Poetry

Children

For very few things in life are unadulterated and pure,

Even fewer untouched by the filth of this world;

To be so clean and yet stay just that way- are our children,

Let us know what they are worth.

 

I smile when I see one smile,

And I cry hard when one does;

The child’s smile is not one of pride nor the cry one of despair,

I remember I was once the same, a shame I’ve degenerated beyond repair.

 

To love unconditionally and hate no soul,

It must take a heart of gold.

Yes that is God, the child speaks his tones,

And here I stand worshiping stones.

 

To not judge men and be nice to each,

Is all that an innocent child speaks;

To love and be loved, is what life’s all about,

Through them, He wants us to preach.

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