Little Boy

Little Boy

I want to be the little boy

clopping along in yellow

rubber soled shoes

that will never wear out

following his mother and brother

into the library

with eyes of wonder

shy of three foot tall

His neat blond hair

combed with a part

in a gray hoodie

He's ready for the rest

of his life

if they'll let him

in the world to which

he was born

Leaders don't want him to live

to be his own man

They want him a slave

to their corporate greed

their pollution

that poisons his milk

that diddles with his DNA

I want to see him grow

for himself and not

for the world's owners

who don't know he exists

other than to use him

He won't see

the forests and meadows

I have seen

because these will be

just rock and sand

March on boy

go into the future

where hate will consume

the entire world

Fear will run through streets

carrying torches and guns

Bombs will explode

The books mother will read

to you

will be burned

Little boys in rubber-soled shoes

will turn to mush

to feed rats and worms

I'm lost in this vision

of your future

I'll never see

My grandchildren will

save you and others

It's their job now

Barry G. Wick