When the Child in My Soul Cries


weeping gilr a

When the child in my soul cries,

There’s no one to put her

Over a comforting lap but I.

There are not many words I can actually

Tell her, as her eyes glaze over the same,

Old, tired pain that never goes away.

She just doesn’t grasp it,

As baby zebras don’t get the why

Of the lioness’ chase.

The child in my soul still doesn’t know

That some things just are.

Some thoughts don’t change.

Some people are in so much pain that

They need to hurt, over and over again,

For that’s all they know and understand.

My soul child just wishes for

All to be like in dreams.

So she extends her hand to the scorpion

Hoping that maybe, perhaps, this

Time it won’t bite, at least not so badly.

It always does.

And it always hurts.

And as I sit her on my lap,

And sight, and hum, as I pray

She will someday learn

To let the scorpion go away.

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