little boys blue
sinners sittin’ in a jail house row
prayin’ to a god they don’t know
readin’ the book of all the rules
but none of them have all the tools
innocence lost in sandbox play
never had nothin’ to save their day
no mother’s kiss to seal their nights
no daddy’s love to show the light
little boys lost at what a cost
lives without love now trampled and tossed
so they sit in solemn quiet
all dressed alike in prison white
faces turned up lookin’ for grace
ain’t got much time for this life’s race
arms held high for them pearly gates
searchin’ for salvation ‘fore it’s too late
heart’s singin’ sweet till kingdom come
ain’t gotta chance till servin’ is done
cross-ways art in ink on canvas flesh
ain’t enough to git outta this mess
men still boys now at the end
worderin’ if their souls will mend
wantin’ to taste of the water sweet
wadin’ to heaven in their bare feet
dreamin’ of love and another life’s dance
lookin’ to god for a second chance
little boys blue
what to do
ain’t gotta chance till servin’ is done
cross-ways art in ink on canvas flesh
ain’t enough to git outta this mess
men still boys now at the end
worderin’ if their souls will mend
wantin’ to taste of the water sweet
wadin’ to heaven in their bare feet
dreamin’ of love and another life’s dance
lookin’ to god for a second chance
little boys blue
what to do
would you like to hear these words spoken?
2 comments:
Terrific. I knew bunch of those little boy blues when I worked as a librarian in a prison. Your description fits it all.
you know, trish, i wrote this piece last april 20 - almost one year ago to the day - and have had it on my mind of late for some reason - anyway, decided since it seemed to be haunting me, it might be time to re-post it - i'm sure institutions 'round the globe are filled, sadly, with such little boys blue -
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