The Child

The sticks and stones, they don't break my bones
but they bruise my soul.
The innocent one, pure and new with eyes for the world,
tossed like a ball, Thrown at a wall and left to roll.

Your Stupid, I wash my hands of you,
Oh Daddy, Have more compassion in your soul.
Your Nothing, You never will be.
Daddy you tell a child anything, they love and respect you.
they will believe you.
You make and break the ones you profess to love.

The one pink monkey in the tribe,
The one who walks their own path,
Heart full of hope crushed and despised, and they know not why.
Wanting, needing, craving, seeking, praying....
Never daring to say what is wrong.