Shrapnel torn and bomb-burned clothes,
Staring eyes reflecting flame,
And human shame.
Child of war, child no more.

Grubby face ingrained with dirt,
Lines of worry,
Lines of hurt.
Child of war, child no more.

Hair askance and early grey,
Flecked with dust,
But not from play.
Child of war, child no more.

Innocence torn and stripped away,
Laughter squashed,
No trust today.
Child of war, child no more.

I cannot compete with Facebook;
Where once I woke in intimacy and closeness,
That gentle, warm and half conscious dream time
Now I wake sharing with 'friends', groups, clubs...
That private softness, you and I,
Now I share with myriad others
All demanding to be served, noticed and paid attention.

I cannot compete with Facebook;
Where once we walked and laughed and noticed all,
Now on waking, breakfast, cafe and bar,
Car, train, walks and bus,
Museums, galleries and restaurants,
They are there, those faceless thousands,
Stealing life's quiet moments, stealing time,
Fast running away.

I cannot compete with Facebook;
Where once there were quiet evenings,
Reading, laughing over thoughts from the day,
Sharing a meal, stories, hopes and dreams,
Now they share them with us,
Those countless, murmuring whisperers
Clamouring to be heard, demanding attention,
Vying to be listened to, watched and played...

I cannot compete with Facebook;
Where once I learned from books,
Encyclopaedia, library, papers and news,
Now it is rumour, gossip, half-truths and lies:
Vegetables are poison, fat is good,
Elvis lives yet, Bowie too,
The moon is green, dogs can paint and cats can fly.
Unfounded, unchallengeable, indisputable,
Stone-cast, indelible facts...

I cannot compete with Facebook;
Where once we debated face-to-face,
Challenged, posed and countered live,
Now a new creed is writ,
From faceless, virtual philosophers,
Throwaway thoughts, prejudice and jibes,
Bigotry and careless bias, social viruses,
Spread at a whim, heedless of hurt or harm.

I cannot compete with Facebook;
When my precious time has finally run away,
As my coffin lid closes,
One last metaphysical thought will flash
Through the sadness of my departing soul:
"What's on your mind?" - Post...

Those hands that held me when I was young,
I hold now, and feel them still, rough and strong.
My turn now to comfort you
And shush and soothe each troubled mew,
As you twist and turn in restless sleep,
As dreams and fears take hold and creep
Inside your mind and whisper thoughts and memories
Of days long past.

I hold you now, as you held me,
And comfort you as you did me.
I hold you close, as tears fall free and selfish thoughts
To keep you here run through my mind.
But when I gaze upon your face,
And see the calm and inner peace,
I know I have to let you go
And stay behind to face alone
The fears and worries that haunt our kind.
But in my heart I never will;
And there inside will hold you still
As you held me once, calm and still.
My Father, who loved me so,
I love you too, but let you go...

If I told you where I run to with my fears
Would you?
If I told you where I hide behind my tears
Would you hold me, would you?

And if I told you all my secrets from inside
Would you?
And promised there was nothing left to hide
Would you hold me, would you?

And if I stood here open and alone,
Would you smile and lose your eyes of stone?
And would you hold me, would you?

And if I knelt before you unafraid
And told you of all the plans that I have laid
Would you hold me, would you?

And would you raise me up and hold me close,
And would you dance me round and leave behind,
Those tears and fears and emptiness inside,
And make me one and whole again with you.
Would you?