Child’s Song

If a heart of gold could be shrouded
It’s within a child’s swathes of shame
Each passing day, her mind is clouded
With endless fingers and her to blame

Time grows long and time grows harder
When mother’s hands are no longer your own
Each flame they lit becomes your armor
And the distance that they built has grown

So brick by brick and stone by stone
You build a wall to hide your plea
And cold within its barren bones
Stand atop an island in the sea



                                                     E. Falter 2/12/25