The Little Boy

Left out of group hugs

Made to walk alone

With no one to hold

For they never worry he will be stolen.. 

But what if he were simply cold? 

Who counts the hours till he gets home? 

Not to make sure he is safe but simply that they were eager to see his face? 

Who will know when to hug instead of scold him? 

Who can he tell his fears, where can he let fall his tears? 

"Boys are easy, they pretty much raise themselves" 

What if we treated our sons like flowers instead of weeds? 

Covered them, pruned their leaves, watched after them day after day 

Asked them their needs, allowed them to be shy unsure soft kind human beings.