The Body Dies, The Soul Flies


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Innocent smiles with thoughts in the air
Just as a child does, without any care
Clutched to the breast of a mother
Protected by the will of a father
As it’s meant to be
A child, loved and free

Runny noses, malnutritions mucus
Streaking down a chin, crusted doofus
Silence is the friend who lives in the head
Talking to themselves from under the bed
Not meant to be
Cruel and mean

Welts and bruises, never heal
Constant beatings made to conceal
A mother hardly there
A father who didn’t care
To weak to be
No one sees

Movies on tv, late night fantasy
Parental Control, is a mystery
Hatred and vile, black and white
Murder and suicide, happens at night
To be or not to be
The idea strikes thee

To play a scene with a silent friend
Kitchen knives used to pretend
Like Beatrix Kiddo and O-Ren Ishii
Swift with a thrust, cold and chilly
How could it be
It was, make believe

A pool, warm as a Christmas bath
Red like the lights on a church path
Leads to the edge where land meets sky
The body dies, the soul flies
It was meant to be
A child, now free

AntönyRös

dedicated to all the children who got out. one way or another 🙏➰❤️

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