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Tender Hearts!

Tender Hearts




     I prove myself favoured in comedy,

Not even consciously,

Aside from my own wit

There is a clown of a protégé,

Someone for those to howl at,

Someone to grin at

As they pass my ill gait

Walking streets no longer caring,

     And I will never forgive

This curse,

Never forgive the worst

‘They’ made of me!


     My guess is, Liberty

Cannot afford my case,

Too convenient were ‘they’

In hiding all their lies,

And time flies from those days

But still,

     I am taunted by those

Keen to point a finger

Keen to harness for their gains -

The sadness I have endured,



All be a puzzle,

Like trying to find

My biological father,

Who may he be?

And can he shed some light

On my feelings of detachment,

Would he understand

My feelings of loneliness,

Would he really know

Just how alien I feel?



It’s all cleverly kept

In secret like

The relation

You have within your spawn

That sells her wares

For gain,

     A secret,

And I am old of this.




     For those that have been

Following my wretched lines

Of dubiousness and doubt,

You may have smiled

A smile or two,

But in knowing you

From my alien perspective,

I guess you now know

You wouldn’t want ‘be me!’

Not within a realm where

Suffering be the glee of others,

Not within a realm

Where even brothers

Scorn their own –

And so,

     At the age I am

While still they point

A finger,

I have come to realize,

That even though my life

Has been tragically

Daubed with violence

And neglect;

     You can only do

The best you can for your



      Never say the cliché,

Never reveal

Yourself as ignorant

Of their needs,

For you can never really

Tell the man or woman that -

You say you read like books,




     Do the best you can

For your youngest folk


Because some people get

A kick out of the neglect

They may be experiencing,

     Some people lay in wait

For twenty years or more,

Just to see them fall,

When in fact their innocence

Be ignored as mud sticks

And secret entities

Portray every act of frustration

As criminal,


     What you sew,

You reap,

You sew a seed

With little tendering,

And you will reap

A flower fighting weeds

Just to survive,

And even then,

All future be

Placed in question

As they,

Nearly die at every

Cornerstone of life.


     Tender hearts,

Need tender care,

A child has the most

Tender of heart of all,

You feed him, her,


     Then your feeding your

Tomorrows with pain,

Knowing right from wrong

Be all very well,

But when it’s you that is

Wrong what are you teaching

To your child as you back it up

With violence?


     It is one thing to hit,

It is the same to be violent

With emotion and psychology,

It teaches nothing

To your children,



Your hate!




     Even though

You have ‘it’ poor,

As long as your children

Are born from love,

And are nurtured through love,

You may yet still,

Make a winner

From the tenderest of hearts,

     In a world,

Provoking only

Anger, hate

Depression desperation

And suicide,


     Never point an accused


For if you’re judging he

Or she going by without a care,

Without a want

For proving self

Within this world;

Then all that I can tell


     Is you’re proving yourself;-

A liar!


Tender hearts,

Tender hearts,

Tender hearts!


Michael J Waite 31st January 2014.


ViolenceNeglectChild AbuseDepressionSuicide.

◄ The Great Illusion

The English Oak ►


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