Tell it to the children

Tell it to the children

Who are born to die.

Those who suffer

For the sins of men.

Starve in a land of plenty.

Weep through eyes

That are bathed

In the beauty of innocence.

Tell it to the lovers,

Who weep,

Alone in darkness,

Even as the sun shines,

As bodies break down

Before their time,

With so much

Yet to do.

Lives undone by

A hidden curse,

A shadowed mass

That eats the flesh

And steals the days,

Even as we laugh…

It is not fair.