She is But A Child

Symington Nyondo

Will you not capitalize on her flaws?
Will you let her decide whether she wants to be child or not?

Don’t let her swirly curves entice you into
Thinking she is less of a child,
Nor her smooth skin beckon your desires,
To drool for her
For she is but a child.

Like sheep amongst hungry wolves,
Your eyes crawl over her blossoming form,
A cadaver in sight of starving vultures,
She might drown in some fool’s bowl
Should she fall for their snares.

Will you let her be a child when she glimmers womanly?
Will you let her seek repose,
That soothing calm in her own path,
Without wringing her innocence?
Will you not capitalize on her flaws?
Will you let her decide whether she wants to be child or not?
What will become or her, if not a child?

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