The Little Boy Writes

Kicking the dust this little feet admits defeat

Scraping the air this little fist cries with crimson flow

Signs of grief smears across this little face so effortlessly

A hope for escape struggles between grinding little teeth

The breaking tides of this little mind is blinded by deceit

His little eyes overflows with tears as this little fear grows

Falling too weak these little knees rest uneasily

Gripping the mask these little hands embrace from beneath

Thinking out loud this little lip screams with hatred so bittersweet

Severing tongues that lacerates through little ears unclothed

Now little veins tremble with rage as he goes about so recklessly

Engraving the flesh of the page these little fingers clench the pen unsheathed

Paper wounds bleed to convey what cannot be spoken through little heartbeats

And so little boy writes, "You're Forgiven.", then delivers it to his little enemy, the foe

A signature of hope to change the little heart behind the mask opposed.