The Eight Year Old

I was just eight,

When I dreamt of,

A beautiful side of the world but,

It showed me the cruel side,

The life of hell.

I was just eight,

At the age of play,

They played a brutal game,

With my body.

I was just eight,

At the age of giving toys,

They made me their toy,

To satisfy their game,

The lust of joy.

I was just eight,

The age where,

I played with dolls,

They played with,

My innocence.

The difference of age,

Does not make any change,

In measure the,

Of lost humanity.

If you still preach,

The drama of your religion,

Then I don’t know,

What is wrong with,

Your priority.