Emile

When he came into the world, 
   The child that came too soon, 
He had nothing but his innocence
   And was blameless and so true.
         But he never felt the warmth’s
      Supposed to nurture someone
         Of as young an age; 
That was life to him, 
   Sad as it may seem.

Pain tattooed on his skin
   Designed as bruise and scars, 
Too harsh a punishment for acting
   Like the child he was; 
         And to think it’s only been
      Just four years that he lived
         Within the world he knew, 
He had to end it all, 
   He had to leave so soon.

      Oh, father and mother dear, 
            He’ll never understand
         Each searing heat stubbed in his skin
               Or each cracking leather slap.
      Yes, he had to cry a tear
            To soothe the pain all through, 
         Like a fading candle’s wicker
               Slowly burnt out into soot.

Now I say to you, my child, 
   May Peace now be with you.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace