THE CHILD
by Anne

The child devours the world in
its hideousness
and take it to a place called
innocence.

He pleases the damned with a
raving beauty of peace
and an array of hopeful sunrise.

The child touches our soul with
smirk and tears, his laughters calm
our fears.

And as he places his tiny hand
in ours,
we unfold and let him heal
our scars.

He reminds us what we long forgot,
our years with those loving our
calloused palms.

For every man from baby frown
from wrinkled skin, have in him
a child within.