It is raw this memorium day.
Nerve ends scream quietly,
where a year ago a sick child’s
mind made mayhem.
That child is in a different
playpen now, deprived of toys.
Cared for by severe nannies
he simply gathers space.
It is raw this memorium day,
as consoling words are said.
And with the setting of the sun,
nannies put the child to bed.
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