Misguided Perceptions

A teenger of 18, clutching to a pram,
And holding two more little boys with her other hand,
In the pram - a baby. A girl of 6 months old,
Looking in her eyes lets this tragic tale unfold.

Just three miles on, a girl of only five,
Getting by on bread and milk to keep herself alive.
Bruises on her body, staggering to stand,
Crying out in silent words as Mother lifts her hand.

Theres something in the distance, the sound of breaking glass,
a stranger rolls her eyes when she see's him on the grass.
She passes on reluctantly, ignores the victims fright,
Convinced that what she passed was just a petty, useless fight.

A woman on the road, refused to move aside,
Despite all of the angry cars in which she could collide.
It didnt seem to matter, however much they tried,
She still staggered right on past with glimmers in her eyes.

Along the road - a stranger, he could only be 16.
He seemed to want to run away and try not to be seen.
He's spat on by the shopkeeper, shouted at to leave,
He ran away with razorblades tucked up inside his sleeve.

He ran on past the road at where the woman had been laying,
But now there lay a body with a man above her praying,
He said "I pray to God to alter all the ways of thinking.
I pray that this here accident will stop her tragic drinking"

He clutched on to the razorblades, harder to his coat,
And ran across the road with a great lump inside his throat.
He saw the two boys fighting, without any sense of order.
Worried for their pain, their hate, their dreadful life disorder.

He felt sympathy for them, the boys fighting on the green,
But continued to run up the road until he heard a scream.
A little girl was lying on the path, she couldnt stand.
Her Mother had been far too hard when she had raised her hand.

He knew that little girl, she had only just turned five,
Her parents had made sure that she would never stay alive.
He walked on past the houses, a tear formed in his eye,
He said a prayer for the girl he knew and tried to say goodbye.

He was coming to a stop, and so he picked up his pace,
And saw the young teen mother with tears falling down her face.
His heart lept to his throat, he felt a rush of guilt and pain,
The young girl gave a hurtful look and walked on in the rain.

The boy refused to move, he simply sat there saturated,
And looked down at the body that he well and truly hated.
He took out the razorblades and held them to his wrist,
And thought about his life as he changed his breath to mist.

He moved the blades across his skin, thought of his awful day,
Looked on in the distance where the teen had walked away.
He thought of the little girl he'd seen inside the pram,
He said "goodbye sweet girl, one day she'll tell you who i am".