Big scene about a dying star,
Scenes on TV as the coffin went far.
But there are those who go unsung.
I say a prayer for the young.
Little child with cancer, inside, growing.
A life time the child will not be knowing.
I try not to cry as the child smiles.
Little child with their own kind of styles.
I write this poem, but do not give me pay.
Because, for them, I would gladly give it away.
All the very money if it saves them.
My tears fall now, to never stem.
Children should have a future to live.
My life to save theirs I would give.
They never see their life begun.
I say a prayer for the young.
Scenes on TV as the coffin went far.
But there are those who go unsung.
I say a prayer for the young.
Little child with cancer, inside, growing.
A life time the child will not be knowing.
I try not to cry as the child smiles.
Little child with their own kind of styles.
I write this poem, but do not give me pay.
Because, for them, I would gladly give it away.
All the very money if it saves them.
My tears fall now, to never stem.
Children should have a future to live.
My life to save theirs I would give.
They never see their life begun.
I say a prayer for the young.
copyright Chris Smith 2009
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