by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
I see the child within you,
with your boyish short fair hair.
I hold my arms out to you,
I want to show I care.
They may have left you
broken, bewildered and abused,
but I will never leave you
feeling neglected, sad and used.
You stand there like a ghost child,
one sock up and one half down.
too sad, too shy, too quiet,
Your face a pale, sad, frown.
Your little dress is crass and short,
your shoes are scuffed and worn,
your toys are few and far between,
your bear, one-eyed and torn.
I see you quietly playing.
keep out the grown-ups way,
don’t let them know of what you think,
they cannot make you say.
Come child, sit here upon my knee,
Let me soothe away the pain;
cry out your little heart to me,
they can’t hurt you again.
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