Not the Title

Police: Ricky is dead, parents to be charged

Little Ricky Holland, where have you gone?
We've been searching for you from dark until dawn.
I'm so sorry that you've been hurt,
You were as innocent as a fawn.
They found your body beneath the dirt,
Where worms and roots, and maggots flirt.
Thinking you were safe with your mother,
Holding close to the hem of her skirt.
You should have been running for cover,
Nevermind the fact that you love her.
Now they found your bag of bones,
We prayed that they belonged to another.
But we already heard your painful moans,
Breaking down the hardest of stones,
And hanging kings upon their thrones.