THE CHILD

There was a child so long ago,
Who fell and scraped her knee.
And no one there to hold her tight,
And no one there to see.

The child still cries and the knee still bleeds,
Though a woman thru and thru
Now and then she reaches out,
For comfort all anew.

And the pain is real, though the blood is not,
When the child and woman join.
Oh the pain is real for they're two sides
Of one lonely mixed-up coin.

And the child is him and the woman's him,
And the knee's his mind and heart.
And the band-aid's not quite big enough,
It frays and falls apart.

And the memory lanes are cluttered,
The lakes are full of tears.
The painful mountain peaks are sharp,
The valleys full of fears.

And so the woman's quest's begun,
Her first-aid kit is packed
To find the child of long ago,
And slowly bring her back.