The child
Look what stands before you, a child.
Untouched by the world,
though, in it, he resides.
Full of innocence, joy
and ever ready to smile.
Look what stands before you, child.
A world stands arrayed
with beauty, love, grandeur and majesty.
A world armed with hate
heart break and cruel necessity.
That batters at the very core
of your being.
Look what this world asks of you, child.
It asks for all you've got.
All your joy, your tears, your energy,
your very blood.
As it greedily laps up
the very last dregs of your soul itself.
It mires you in cubicles and vicious cycles
and asks for gratitude.
It destroys ideals at the very real altar
of compromise.
Look what this world has wrought, a broken child.
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