So we fight for the rights of children –
each one precious, vulnerable, a tender petal –
yes. as fresh as their own dew.
If only you knew:
– – The villains, their cracked face once sacred tender-filled places.
they were children, too.
That bully and brawn waiving fists with fortitude
we knew him once with creamy fresh flesh
Oh …and his enchanting toddling steps
those curious eyes, he always lived by, saying – See me. Know me. Show me the way. Gently, please…
perhaps he wandered too much solo, scraped knees with no-one to cocoon him rightly
And the bridges the grown-ones built before his gait did not make sense, or broke into rubble too great…
And so, as such he became grown
Shamed for his own
misplaced pain, and punishments they told him he’d sown
as he aggressed from an inner pain pressing
so then he – planted himself in the circle of strife, and passing of pains, starkly un-seen by
anyone. Though there they stood planted in that same, circling, pain…
Step out of it!
Get a grip!
Choose your wits – and for life’s-sake, lay down your fists.
open them flat, pressed on the land, prostrate your head.
Bend –
Down.
breathe the scent of the dust, or, the damp- there.
And remember.
You are a vulnerable petal of childness
And so are they, in essence: any villain grown without wholesome basics every babe should have.
so, with this Awareness, we Pray.
When we can face them – the demons, via humanism and as humans,
applying passion for humanity’s rightness right in the trenches of absurd injustice,
they can then rise with birth-right petals in full spread-eagle, repair and remember…
and you, too, will be whole.
