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Poem by Jason Flores
SHATTERED DREAMS
Life for little boys and girls, it's all about having toys and candy curls.
They know no evil, commit no crime;
They live day to day and oblivious to time.
They get lost in thought when they listen to Looney tune themes;
Their minds are hard at work pondering their precious dreams.
All they care about is sleep overs and best friends,
The hottest shoes and the latest trends.
They want to ride their bikes all day and play in the street.
A quick dash to the house for a glass of ice tea.
Then it's back to playing kickball in the summer heat,
Or building a fort in that big Oak tree.
Life for little boys and girls seems to last forever.
They play tricks and tell jokes and think they're clever.
They take little journey's around the neighborhood but sometimes wander too far,
unaware of the predators and the man watching their every move
From inside his car.
Someone please stop this animal from choosing this child's fate.
But no one hears the child’s screams and now it is too late.
The sick pervert has stolen this child's innocence and it can never be replaced,
Except with the nightmares and painful memories that can never be erased.
For this child all hope is lost,
Because nothing is worth what innocence cost.
Now the child is no longer pure,
Tainted by a disease without a cure.
Blurring the child's vision and eating away at the brain.
This child doesn't stand a chance without a way to release the pain.
Now that the child has been traumatized and abused,
No one can be trusted without the fear of being used.
Even though on the outside the child doesn't seem in shock,
Just look a little deeper and you will see someone changed the locks.
You can try any key and every tool again and again,
But not even the child knows how to let you in.
Life has lost its color and who cares about friends?
The only thing that matters is how soon the day ends.
The child no longer looks forward to getting hugs and kisses,
An intimate moment only a mother misses.
No one can tell but the mother knows something ain't right,
How about the times you no longer hear “I love you, good night".
But it gets worse as the years go by,
not knowing what to do except lay in your bed at night and cry,
praying the happiness and joy in your innocent child will return,
And that the animal that did this will go to hell and forever burn.
