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A Little Child
Just a little child that was born
to children,
Much to young to handle anything.
Neither of them ready for the new
life,
Or the work and stress it would
bring.
Two teenagers who gave in to
lust,
In the backseat of an old rusty
car.
Nine months later they became
parents,
To a child that wouldn't get very
far.
The boy had to learn how to be a
man,
Earn money so the three of them
could eat.
The baby learned not to anger his
mother,
He tried not to step on her feet.
One day he was just being a boy,
Making sounds like his
daddy's car.
His mother had a headache, she
said,
Hit him so hard with a belt that
it left a scar.
Many times he was placed in a
closet,
Away from the world to cry alone
all day.
Couldn't someone have helped this
child?
It's not supposed to be this way.
His life ended suddenly one
night,
His small body lashed to a mighty
tree.
Lightening struck the frail
little body,
Before his father could set him
free.
Now his mother is doing time in
jail,
His father lives in a personal
hell.
The little boy roams the streets
of heaven,
Where he'll always be treated
well.
Don't close your eyes if you see
it,
Ignoring it won't make it go away.
Each day there are children that
need us,
That deserve to be to run and
play.
We can't help the children who
are gone,
But we can help those still in
our mists.
Don't be afraid to reach out and
stop it,
Don't let a child die by an angry
fist.
Dianna 2002
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