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The parson always christens his own child first.
Intermix
Intermix the polishing of a forgotten summer,
The parson cools me after the furthest colour.
Furtive numerals are held in the mind when furthest,
Novelties of an oaf nurse on nothing.
Numerous designs matter on the shelf,
Gory oaths are honourable and gouging strength.
Let colours intermix and let the parson mix with us,
The length of numbers are called equations for us.
Gormandize the food once you steal,
The parson refuses to renovate your reality.
poem by Naveed Akram

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Longer Boats
Longer boats are coming to win us
Theyre coming to win us, theyre coming to win us
Longer boats are coming to win us
Hold on to the shore, theyll be taking the key from the door.
I dont want no God on my lawn
Just a flower I can help along
cause the soul of no body knows
How a flower grows... oh how a flower grows.
Chorus
Mary dropped her pants by the sand
And let a parson come and take her hand
But the soul of no body knows
Where the parson goes, where does the parson go?
Chorus
song performed by by Cat Stevens

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tinker Dick
Good Parson Dickson preached, I'm told,
A sermon-ah, 'twas very old
And very, very, bald!
'Twas all about-I know not what
It was about, nor what 'twas not.
'A Screw Loose' it was called.
Whatever, Parson Dick, you say,
The world will get each blessed day
Still more and more askew,
And fall apart at last. Great snakes!
What skillful tinker ever takes
His tongue to turn a screw?
poem by Ambrose Bierce

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Child
Child. Old child,
No longer wild;
No longer speaking,
No longer beguiled;
I have become
A quiet old child.
Child. Old child,
No longer cold;
Never an old man,
Always too old;
I have become
An old child tenfold.
Child. Old child,
Forever a child;
Always rethinking,
Always exiled.
I should become
A happy old child.
Child. Old child.
Always soft-spoken;
No longer breaking,
Still being broken;
I have become
An old child, unspoken.
Child. Old child,
No longer bold;
By thinking, rethinking
Of stories untold,
All through my childhood,
I've become... old.
poem by Mihai Cosmescu

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Before A Court Of Justice
THE father's name ye ne'er shall be told
Of my darling unborn life;
"Shame, shame," ye cry, "on the strumpet bold!"
Yet I'm an honest wife.
To whom I'm wedded, ye ne'er shall be told,
Yet he's both loving and fair;
He wears on his neck a chain of gold,
And a hat of straw doth he wear.
If scorn 'tis vain to seek to repel,
On me let the scorn be thrown.
I know him well, and he knows me well,
And to God, too, all is known.
Sir Parson and Sir Bailiff, again,
I pray you, leave me in peace!
My child it is, my child 'twill remain,
So let your questionings cease!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Will Cry?
Who will cry for the little child who goes for days without food?
Who will cry for the little child who parents beat them?
Who will cry for the little child who is mistreated for being different?
Who will cry for the little child who goes unloved?
Who will cry for the little child whose stomach is swelled up?
Who will cry for the little child who doesn't have clothes to wear?
Who will cry for the little child who is shunned for not being popular?
Who will cry for the little child who is molested every night?
Who will cry for the little child who's parents are not around?
Who will cry for the little child who has to take care of his self?
Who will cry?
Will you cry?
Cause I have.
poem by Natasha Ligons

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give This Child What She Needs
Give this child what she needs
Love
Give this child what she needs
Shelter
Give this child what she needs
Prayers
Give this child what she needs
Some food and water
Give this child what she needs
Good parents
Give this child what she needs
Good manors
Give this child what she needs
A smoke free home
Give this child what she needs
Peace and happiness
Give this child what she needs
To know God
Give this child what she needs
Your guidance
Give this child what she needs
Clothes
Give this child what she needs
Your support
Give this child what she needs
Some family time
Give this child what she needs
A nice bath every day
Give this child what she needs
Some discipline
Give this child what she needs
A warm bed to sleep on
poem by Aldo Kraas

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Runaway Child
Runaway Child, don’t have to take it anymore
Runaway Child, just walk out of that door
Runaway Child, no more chances to take
Runaway Child, it’s your choice to make
Runaway Child, aren’t you sick and tired of the pain
Runaway Child, here there’s nothing to gain
Runaway Child, you get treated like dirt
Runaway Child, get away from the hurt
Runaway Child, here it’s no use
Runaway Child, get away from the abuse
Runaway Child, you don’t have 9 lives
Runaway Child, take that step or dive
Runaway Child, why are you still there
Runaway Child, how much pain can you bear
Runaway Child, you don’t have to say goodbye
Runaway Child, say goodbye, when they DIE!
poem by Patrick Harris

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken child
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who has seen more than his young eyes should.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who would run away from it all if he could.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who has been ravished by the likes of you and I.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child with to much pride to cry.
I see the face off a broken child.
a child who fights off anyone who cares.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who wishes his mother was there.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who wont let his hardships keep him down.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who refuses to give up and reveal a frown.
poem by Joshua Reid

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There Is No God, the Wicked Sayeth
"There is no God," the wicked saith,
"And truly it's a blessing,
For what He might have done with us
It's better only guessing."
"There is no God," a youngster thinks,
"or really, if there may be,
He surely did not mean a man
Always to be a baby."
"There is no God, or if there is,"
The tradesman thinks, "'twere funny
If He should take it ill in me
To make a little money."
"Whether there be," the rich man says,
"It matters very little,
For I and mine, thank somebody,
Are not in want of victual."
Some others, also, to themselves,
Who scarce so much as doubt it,
Think there is none, when they are well,
And do not think about it.
But country folks who live beneath
The shadow of the steeple;
The parson and the parson's wife,
And mostly married people;
Youths green and happy in first love,
So thankful for illusion;
And men caught out in what the world
Calls guilt, in first confusion;
And almost everyone when age,
Disease, or sorrows strike him,
Inclines to think there is a God,
Or something very like Him.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Monday's Child is Ill
Monday's child is ill, I'm told.
Tuesday's child has caught a cold.
Wednesday's child is down with the flu.
Thursday's child is feeling blue.
Friday's child can't eat any food.
Saturday's child is in a foul mood.
And the child that's born on the seventh day
Is the only child that feels okay.
poem by Bruce Larkin

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every Child!
the faces of...
every child who'll
go to bed hungry tonite...
every child afraid to sleep
for fear of the soldiers,
the bullets, the bombs....
every child abused
by his parents...
every child humiliated
for being different.
every child who's never
known his own father...
every child with no hope
for an education...
every child sleeping
in homeless cars.
every child alone,
lonely, without love.
every child of every broken home,
every child, every color, every country...
staring at me this sleepless night,
tearing at my heart...
all my children!
poem by Eric Cockrell

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Broken Child
A broken child hides at night.
A broken child cries in fright.
A broken child hides the bruise.
A broken child is pushed and refused.
A broken child always with heartache.
A broken child who cannot fake.
A broken child who has no treasure.
A broken child used for sinful pleasure.
A broken child is so scared.
A broken child has no faith to bare.
A broken child lost in dispair.
I am the broken child, the one that no one cares.
poem by Haley Brown

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Sitting By Your Self
THIS child needs your love,
this child sees himself in
mamas arms,
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child cries, when your
sitting by your self.
THIS child sees your tears,
this child waits untill its
past.
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child cries, when your
sitting by your self.
THIS child takes your hand,
this child leads you to a
chair.
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child takes away your pain.
poem by David Gerardino

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love is a child
Love was a child, so meek and so mild
Love was a child who smiled.
Love was a child who played with a toy train
Love was a child who jumped in puddles in the rain.
Love was a child who laughed and played.
Love was a child God lovingly made.
Love is a child that God now holds
Love is a child who will never grow old.
Love is a child we sorely miss
Love is a child who Angels now kiss.
Love is a child.
poem by Daniel Hooks

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For A Child
FOR A CHILD
No worry can be as great
As for a child.
No caring can be as great
As for a child.
For a child.
The world is made
For a child
All good we have is prayed
For a child
For a child
For a child.
poem by Shalom Freedman

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let a child smile
Let a child blissfully grow,
Don’t try and obstruct his natural flow.
Let a child sleep,
Don’t try and break his dreams.
Let a child run,
Don’t try and smack his ear-drum.
Let a child confidently walk,
Don’t try and lure him with your talk.
Let a child create,
Don’t try and teach him to hate.
Let a child be innocent,
Don’t try and show him the art of disguise.
Let a child be naughty,
Don’t try and instruct him to be haughty.
Let a child play,
Don’t try and intentionally spoil his day.
Let a child make mistakes,
Don’t try and show him the stick.
Let a child roam in Sunlight,
Don’t try and hide him from the bright.
Let a child express his thoughts,
Don’t try and be a mental block.
And let a child prosper and SMILE,
Don’t try and expose him to worldly guiles.
poem by Nikhil Parekh

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Child Had No Trust
The child was given a fruit
But the child did not eat
The child was given a shelter
But the child did not sleep
The child was given love
But the child did not take
The child was shown a path
But the child did not go
The child was promised a future
But the child did not believe
The fruit could be poisoned
The shelter could be a tomb
The sleep could be a nightmare
The love could be abused
The path could be an abyss
And the future smelled of the past
The child had no trust
Can anyone make the child believe
poem by Miroslava Odalovic

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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