Boy Child

The lion has lost it's mane,
Its sense of pride taken away
By the same who called him great,
The same who offered nothing but praise,
The same who taught him not to judge.
They have turned away.

First, it was a sign of equality,
They then faced the other side of the table
And offered a piece of bread,
Seemed only fair and square,
Till only he got was their back.

Now they have forsaken him.

They say he is the head,
Yet they deny him proof of brain.
They say he is the pillar
Yet they break his effort and ignore his sweat,

They have stashed opportunity high up,
They have built a wall for him to scale
Yet they hand ready made ladders to her.

They push him on,
Encourage him to run the race
He puts in all strength and will,
Stretches his limits with hope of a light,
Only to find her on a throne at the tape
Waiting for his breathe to wane
So the victory she can claim
And add a mile to his tunnel.

Now the lion whose roar split the future
Lies in his corner,
Away,
His hope now in games of chance
And wishful thoughts of his days of glory.

Soon he will be up for display,
In museums of things once great,
Stilletos will echo on his glass wall,
And all he will do
Is stare at a future once gay
Now drained in neglect
By those who magnified his strength
At a tender age and forsook his silent pleas.