March 9, 2011
When People are born, long ago
In unfamiliar pasts,
Their infant minds always forgo
The judgments that we cast

But as newborns evolve to childhood
Their hearts always sink
To perceptions of bad and good;
Their parchments soaked in ink

And innocence gives way to lust
And clutching fingers rip
The guiltless, clean and gentle trust
Slowly becomes eclipsed

And as a girl or boy grows old
Their mind gradually tears
And jaded hearts, stinking of mold
Will expose dreams stripped bare

So really we can only pray
That something will remain
Untouched and pure from childhood’s days
That we won’t live in vain

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