KIDS

“I think it's important for us as a society to remember that the youth within juvenile justice systems are, most of the time, youths who simply haven't had the right mentors and supporters around them - because of circumstances beyond their control.” - Q'orianka Kilcher

The New What’s Going On blog is prompting about “Being Human”. My take on this theme has already been written about in an old post of mine on this blog and you may read it if you are interested here. This present post is looking at the alarming surge of childhood violence that is sweeping the world at the moment. It is a terrible thing to see young children and teenagers being robbed of there normal carefree, growing up phase and being plunged into a violent adult world of crime, drugs, bullying, sex offences and even death.

My poem here references two biblical passages: “O Absalom, my son, my son!” is a quote from 2 Samuel 18:33, which is King David's anguished lament upon hearing of his son Absalom's death. The second is the passage from Judges 11:35 “Alas, my daughter! thou hast brought me very low…”, describing Jephthah's distress upon seeing his daughter. She was the first to come out of his house after his victory. Jephthah tore his clothes and expressed despair, realising his vow to sacrifice the first living thing from his house meant his only daughter… 

Kids

Kids should play, and learn and grow —
Kids should be fed, and loved; and know
The future can be theirs to own,
If they stay kids until they’ve grown.

No guns, no force, no knives for kids
Nothing grown-up their age forbids;
Kids should be schooled and educated
Kids should be nurtured and not hated.

“O my son Absalom, my son,
My son Absalom!
Would I had died instead of you,
O Absalom, my son, my son!”

No stolen cars, no gangs, no chases
No dope, no midnight motor races!
Kids should be kids, and read and think
No drugs, no cigarettes, no drink…

Kids are to play with dolls, with toys
Kids beat their drums with joyful noise;
Not kill and maim and mindlessly attack
Not rape, not abuse, not fiercely wrack.

“Alas, my daughter!
You have brought me very low!
I have opened my mouth to the Lord,
and I cannot take back my vow…”

What world have we all made for kids?
The families, the schools that hit the skids?
Everyone’s guilty of childhood’s end!
Is it too late now our world to mend?

The poem is once again set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.