My heart mourns the innocents,
As I wonder where they’ve gone.
I am one no longer,
Nor is the boy at my side.
I glance at the looking glass,
See grief reflected in my eyes.
I cannot tremble,
With that small hand in mine.
“What is wrong,” he would ask of me,
“Nothing,” I replied.
“Your sister will take care of you.”
Another set of lies.
We’ve seen more than children should,
We’ve done more than children would.
We are children no longer,
We are weaker, we are stronger.
No one mourns the innocents,
For no one knows where they’ve gone.
Children loose their innocence,
And become parents to their own.