stop, harsh world, don’t even think about taking this one as your own, leave his hand soft and still, his eyes wide to the marvels that are opened up with every turning of the wheel
read nothing into those kaleidoscope cheeks, the colours are not familiar to you, no markings of an ideal recruit, it’s just the freshness and joy for which even you must now crave
move on from this place, enough black roses have been planted here, give an aching mother a chance to hear the music of peace, to sit without a hand on her heart
in this small room, just a tiny corner of your realm, may you at last understand that the raging fires need to be calmed, that you’ve been taking far too many and giving nothing back
listen for just a second to that delicious sound of innocence, untainted hope that even you could bathe in, a newborn magic that might just wash away your own harshness
© Copyright, 2006. Shameless Words.