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Stolen Lullaby
April 1, 2017
What becomes of Innocent’s foe?
Does Innocents fly with embers free
dulling to ashes
burning cold
or sing
youthful sorrow sweet
Maybe Innocents prays
or wishes on wells
to prey
weakness on well
Perhaps innocents screams
perhaps it sings
or maybe bleeds
from Love not told
But no. Not now.
I. need know.
Does not One see
those small hearts plea?
Yellow’s soft, pure petals thorns
Plucked from sweetness,
laid on stone
Hollowed eyes
never old
I. was never meant to know…
© Stacy B., Pembroke, MA
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