Molding

A very delicate matter.

pakoy

Hear the children’s laughter,
it is all the same.
High pitched and infectious,
a dear for the ears.

Black, white, brown or yellow,
they have the same smile.
Well nourished or starving,
they have one desire.

Some good fortune for kids,
having a true home,
with someone to hold them.
Someone to kiss them.

But an ill fate for those,
having such a house,
and not a home to go.
No one to embrace.

Yet… still blessed beings,
seeing no evil,
hearing only good things.
Uncorrupted minds.

Let children, be children.
Make them see beauty.
Show them the precise way,
let love be their light!