You weren’t born,
to contemplate and mourn,
knowing right from wrong.

As life went on,
innocence was stripped gone,
now open hearts don’t belong.

But, you were good,
before told how you should
act, live and think.

Before, you were made
to be afraid,
of what pours out in ink.

The child at birth,
the one who first,
spoke from whimsy and joy.

Is the soul untouched,
before kicked and punched,
by the worlds appetite to destroy.

Don’t let them tear you apart,
stay true and listen to your heart,
because in the end, as in the beginning,

You are good.