Sonnet #68

It used to be you couldn't raise a kid

Without a stick to beat them with, hard

If you weren't leaving bruises, solid hit

across the backside, they should be scarred

By brutal beatings, when they were really

really bad, they should point to the marks

And tell the story of how love futilely

tried to beat some sense into their hearts

Life was supposedly harder back then

So everyone had to be ready to fight

Diseases swept through and wars took the men

And industry chewed up the children in coal light

As if that hasn't changed, we pretend we do not harm

As if life is so much easier, we pretend we're safer, warm