Save the Children

            Come, gather round, punters, and watch my TV,
            I'll shock you with film clips of paedophily,
            I'll rattle and shake you, your young ones I'll scare,
            And thank you for raising my audience share.

            Roll up, you punters, and buy my newspapers,
            For names and addresses of supposed child-rapers.
            Persecute anybody whose name bears some relation,
            And thank you for boosting my poor circulation.

We'd all rip the balls off the bastards,
given half a chance. Give us the chance
to keep abuse of our children in its rightful place:
at home, in the bosom of the family,

to focus on the Monster, to ignore monstrosity,
to forget the children slaving in football factories,
in brick works, sweat shops, our proxy wars
in which winners win little, child soldiers lose all.

We hack off their health, chop their education,
whatever will stop bad-loan bankers
losing sleep or interest.
Our interest mounts elsewhere.

While there is time,
it is time humans turned humane,
stopped culling the kids! Now!
Or now.

Or now.

Bryan Murphy

If you've any comments on this poem, Bryan Murphy would be pleased to hear from you.

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