how will he know?

How will he know?

 

He, an innocent, age three

Wakes up dead to see

A hand and its ten fingers,

How have they done it?

The first hunt and the first hand

To plunge in red of

The vital liquid of life.

How had they done it?

He, an innocent of truth,

Does not know the teeth

Of mankind those eat own clan.

 

He, an innocent, age three

Wakes up dead to see

Cops are taking his father

To jail custody.

How shall I live? A question

Looms upon his head.

But, oh, innocent those hands

Have made you cold dead!

 

 

Reviews

[The Archangel Gabriel]

Paddarku-

I love it! Your style seems to have a way of somewhat losing me in the middle and making me work to understand. I really like the way that this one has "standard formatting."

A sobering message, although a good night sleep already sobered me.

-Gabe

[[untitled]]

I just couldn't understand this on first reading ...but I have deliberated, this is hauntingly deep, very emotive work. Best wishes, Bethlynne