Of Youth and Toys

Is love still yet hiding
in the breath of the sun?
Is every word embedded,
etched so plainly
by your ever-smudged fingers
into a myriad of walls?
Are these walls your dusty canvases?
Is there still a crease
in the crook of your finger
where it was often bent to hold another?
What, my darling �"
what reason do you give your heart for beating?
Who, my love �"
who could have scarred you
when you are so new to this world?
These sadistic children,
they teach you first to speak
then to play when you are bored �"
to play and to explore;
And these sadistic children, dear
they take hearts
in their infant idleness;
And in these teachings
comes the fragility of youth �"
youth who have learned but to guard
guard their very souls �"
for the children of the world
will use you as a toy
as will the rest of these broken people
and another broken person you've become