Lullaby

21-9-09

Humour the child
with scribbles on fridges.
How to look after
there is not a handbook.
Apparently there is evil
that can touch the purest…
There is an evil so sour
that can touch the child…

With a blackened hand
reaching out for her,
She sobs in a ring of fire.
Cries for her mother and father
to save her from the monster
who uncovers those parts
that we always keep covered up.

And claws tear at her hair
and plant bugs that infest
her mind and sing a lullaby
“Oh child, you are so loved
Oh child, you are so…
worthless, disgusting,
Oh child you are so loved
Oh child you are such a…
burden, freak.
Oh child you are so hated
Oh child you are so…
pathetic, insignificant”.

Such a mild voice
Such a disturbing message
Such a protective embrace
in all the wrong places.

And so young, did she ever
have a chance at all?
And so poisoned, did she ever
have a clue at all?
And so pure, did she ever
have such a memory?
And so innocent,
did she ever have innocence at all?

And so young,
Did she even have a chance?