hurt
she pushed inward
starting
to show
now
she'll do some talking
but
he'll never know
tables
have turned now
with
a child of her own
but
she's blind to the difference
what's
taught is that's known
numbed
by reaction
stripped
of the trust
a young
hheart is broken
not
aware that it's just
a family
tradition
the
strength of this land
where
what's right and wrong
is the
back of a hand
turns
girls into women
a boy
to a man
but
the rights of the children
have
nowhere to stand
memories
of children
are
written in stone
some
they get buried
not
to be shown
still
they do linger
deep
down inside
like
a seed that's been planted
and
won't be denied
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |