Innocence and purity
Extended hands, role models seeking
The fresh snow look- alike hearts that are unsuspecting
Welcome all without a thought as to the existence of bad
So what was their crime?
Should they be charged for being too trusting?
Should their creator be charged for giving them clean slates of trust?
Grown children with dented souls
Crying within, masked with adulthood
Trapped by responsibilities, nosy eyes and fingers
Even the bright light reveals not their hidden little selves
Beaten and bruised by monsters who roam free
Leaving them tired, bitter with loathing
And making them the apparitions of their monsters.
Mum Cee 