Heather P Wilson
The Unloved
Oh, to dress me in a magic gown
That would soar me `round this land,
Where troubles store
And heartaches thrive
Then I might understand,
Why problems sadly are a feature
Where children just need love,
Why so many little prayers are sent
To a power up above.

When the milk of human kindness flows
I hope it will get spread
So many of those little souls
Can sleep happily in their bed.