Who can they trust?
In their minds who
Will keep them safe?
Look after them?
Protect them?
Not encourage them
to fill precious, minute lungs
With smoke, dripping with tar, nicotine,
Pure poison.
The three year old started crying,
So he gave her another cigarette.
I don't understand.
I cannot comprehend.
I am disgusted.
There is nothing to explain this tragedy.
Does the child feel safe to walk alone?
And not be snatched from the street.
Forced to exist, not live
As a captive slave.
Innocence, ripped and torn away.
Once saved, live a life of psychological
Torment, torture, blame.
The teacher with the fantasies,
The carer with the history.
Who, who can they trust?
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