Almost a poet

Trouble

That little girl, she wouldn't steal a thing,

That little girl could never take life,

But that little girl will never get a ring,

And that little girl only trusts her knife.

She's been hurt too much,

And loved too little.

And just one touch,

Could make her heart less brittle.

But who wants the trouble,

Of a heart to repair?

You pick her her up from the rubble,

And it might be a waste of care.

*

That young boy, he didn't have anyone.

That young boy had always been alone.

That young boy will never see the sun.

That young boy heard the world as a harsh tone.

He's lost more than he can handle,

And wasn't comforted enough.

He needs just one burning candle,

So he can stop trying to be tough.

But who wants the trouble?

Who has the time?

He'll cost you double,

And you won't get a dime.

*

They're all just trouble,

So why help them at all?

Just stay in your bubble,

Just let them fall.

You already said it,

In your own special way

You would just sit,

As their hope would decay.

The trouble isn't worth the effort,

So why help a life so bare?

"It's not just" is the moral retort,

But who ever said life was fair?