A Child of Seven.
A Child of Seven.
Before the sun rays could defeat,
The great darkness of the night.
From his bed of hay,
He has to rise.
A boy, barely seven
Has to rise before the sun could shine.
His bone now almost peeping out from his skin,
His eyes now bulging out,
His face shrunken like that of a raisin
Traces clear of the early demise,
Of the spring of life.
His childhood had died long ago,
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