LOST INNOCENTS…by Jessie

Children, the tiny seed of man; their innocents won’t last

For all the history of the fathers

Present to the past

What's sad is children never mean

Kind and pure of heart

People take that innocents and tear it all apart

The hopes and dreams of years to come

Placed within their hands

Expectations way to high

For them to understand

Pressures put on the child, from an early age

Just so fathers get the chance to stand on center stage

Weighting down the children’s will

Boot tight on their throat

Trench dug deep around their soul

A finely crafted moat

Children grow to be adults

And do as they were taught

While all along the fathers words

Sit within and rot