Fragile The tininess of a child's hand The softness of skin The tenderness of every word Delicate the child mind So loving the young voice Fragile those Not on the breakfast table
That should only reach out for love
But instead spitefully twisted
Where pain has no doubt
That only a child can bring
Until the cigarette is put
And pureness distorted by burning caused
First spoken and on years grown
Polluted by every word sworn
Invaded by more that is learnt
That can so easily be torn
By both that said
A nd every cruel thought unspoken
Sweetly asking for belonging
Innocence easily ripped
Passed on a vile disease
Who cannot protect themselves
So invisible those who are so close
Who don't know or care what they leave in disrepair
Do all the headlines lie
In the safety of their own
So many children die or lose their lives
Christopher Wellbelove
1 September 2007
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