Child

Child of my child, I will mother you                    Child of a child, your trouble's begun
For my child has no sense of your needs.          For your fate is in hands meek and feeble.
I will bathe you and tend you                            A seed has been sown
And soothe you and mend you.                        In a child not yet grown
Child, like my child, I may smother you.           Who has known too few years ‘neath the sun.

Child of my child, may I take you away?          Child of a child, so unscathed and pure
I so adore each precious smile.                      Is it fair that your mother is weak?
You are mine, but not mine,                          She will love you and hold you
But so thin is the line                                    But her hands are too cold to
That I beg that, with me, you will stay.            Bring the warmth that is rightfully yours 

Child, O’ my child, you could never cope        Child O’ my child, I pity you so,
Without all the things that I offer.                  Though I love you with all of my heart.
If I fill you with qualm                                    To me alone you belong.
‘Till the sweat fills your palms                        And I pray I'll grow strong
Will you stay here, devoid of all hope.            And be all and sundry to you.