Is a simple thing.

Far less complicated than a ring.

For every mean child that lies in bed,

Many tears have been shed.

Over time we grow and change

But memories only rearrange.

Hurtful words haunt our mind

Language has hurt our kind.

Nasty boys walk on by

I wonder if they question why.

But either way from the path they have strayed

Their broken hearts have ben frayed

A mother, a father, or a friend

One could have saved them

Before they turned to condemn

The others who only wanted a chance

They could have learned how to dance

Dance for life, dance for death,

for every single simple breath.

Kindness could have changed it all

Before the boys went and made them fall.