Keep Away From Children (Poetry)

(Well-meaning advice from manufacturers of packaging)

The boy he pulls the wings off flies
the girl picks petals from the rose
they sulk beneath uneasy skies
no sign of any sweetness shows

He has no care for living things
she sees no beauty in the wild
deaf to the note the nightbird sings
there is no hope for either child

They’d rather text than play with toys
their friends are brats — destructive/loud
this new-style batch of girls and boys
who make their witless parents proud

She’s seven while he’s barely nine
they cuss just as the grown-ups do
sneak cigarettes, steal sips of wine
all that’s forbidden they pursue

They hardly smile — expressions cold
like aliens they stand and stare
although so young there’s something old
about that look — it chills the air

Some quality that quite unnerves
all cuteness absent — not one trace
of innocence — naive reserves
that might endear a hostile face

They’re less than human in design
devoid of every telltale trait
I thank the heavens they’re not mine
and pray they’ll never procreate