He, an innocent, age three
Wakes up dead to see
A hand and its ten fingers,
How have they done it?
The first hunt and the first hand
To plunge in red of
The vital liquid of life.
How had they done it?
He, an innocent of truth,
Does not know the teeth
Of mankind those eat own clan.
He, an innocent, age three
Wakes up dead to see
Cops are taking his father
To jail custody.
How shall I live? A question
Looms upon his head.
But, oh, innocent those hands
Have made you cold dead!


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