The Murder Of A Child

Run like a hound on the hunt,
you stupid little thing.
It's a big wide world out there
and you're weak.
You'll never make it out alive
with those heels.
Paint your face with the blood
of your child body.
Skin the wolf and drain him
as tradition goes.
You can't ride until you're tall.
No children here.
Walk on the path of gravel,
hear it crunch below,
and crush those that block it.
Hang them up.
They'll suffer long and well.
No mercy killing.
You'll never have a voice.
You're not capable.
You're dreaming too big.
Dream too small
and it all just might come true.
You're one of many.
You're too young to understand.
The murder of innocence
is no different than the murder
of a breathing child.
I've heard it all too many times,
so enlighten me.
Tell me what I'm too stupid to know.
I've learned things
that you'll never know, even in death.
Tell me who I am,
but first remember who you are.
We're all just children
and if we can't understand one another,
then it's Lord of The Flies
and we can only rescue ourselves.