The look in his eyes
of innocence wise;
hardly has this blaze been stopped.
The cleft in his chin
makes us all want to sin
yet Charlie has always been tops.
But deep in the past
there’s a question that’s asked
and a standard comprising a prism.
Openly yearning
from hope he is learning
the answer is: “Lies are a prison.”
When left in the sun
and bereft of his fun
his toys melted into each other.
Left there in the heat;
deft care (incomplete),
his boys belted there to teach others.
His potency proven
is cogently human;
from Charlie the cowards took shelter.
Embracing his power;
his plaything deflowered;
young Charlie devoured his elders.
Written by Jason Wright
October 31, 2019