Under My Sofa

Skeleton boy

Fingers stretch within the sight
Of a boy whose limbs are thin and white
What happened to the skeleton grown?
He worked his fingers to the bone
Helping others who won't now help him
He sacrificed his life and limb
Peeled the very flesh right off his bones
And gave it to those who lived alone
He loved all people with a heart so bright
That it basked them all in cleansing light
Parted the sea and bathed their heads
In the hope that their hearts would turn from lead
Blood is thicker than water, so they battled instead
Staining the grounds he walked to red
Twice he lived and twice he died
Betrayed by one, and one thrice lied
A bleached skeleton he walked alone
After stripping himself to the bone
Eager looks and grabbing hands
Took the fish he split upon the sand
He gave his heart to a race of blood
Pumping out a crimson flood
But the groundwork was already stained with red
From a time when even goodness fled
Crowning men with naught but water
When such men were the ones that put children to slaughter
When the water dries and no trace remains
What stops the men from playing refrains?
A child for whom a new world grew
Gave all he was, and still they slew

***

Hey guys,

I'm not a Cristian, but the poem took a definite turn in that direction and I let it.

To those of you that ARE Cristian, I hope you all had a great Christmas.

Alex xxx