Short Childrenage Poems

Infernal Night

There was a raven haired baby
Small for his age and rarely cried
looking out with weak eyes
hoping someone will love me...

A mama not commited to being a mom
Young for  her age of sixteen
Wild oats not yet sown
spaced out on dope most of the time...
Thinks if I just put my hand on his mouth...

Never is too late to help