This elfin child was taken into care,
And maintenance devolved upon the State.
His whimpering mother was inadequate,
His father vanished into empty air.
Life came unfurnished – nobody was there
To dress his wounds and make the pain abate.
It was too much to ask and far too late
To find another mother anywhere.
His scars healed up, his head was cleared of lice,
His shorts stayed clean, his nose stopped dripping snot,
But life to him was what he had not got,
And certain of his habits were not nice.
Already a subscriber? Log in
Subscribe for just $2 a week
Try a month of The Spectator Australia absolutely free and without commitment. Not only that but – if you choose to continue – you’ll pay just $2 a week for your first year.
- Unlimited access to spectator.com.au and app
- The weekly edition on the Spectator Australia app
- Spectator podcasts and newsletters
- Full access to spectator.co.uk
Unlock this article
You might disagree with half of it, but you’ll enjoy reading all of it. Try your first month for free, then just $2 a week for the remainder of your first year.
Comments
Don't miss out
Join the conversation with other Spectator Australia readers. Subscribe to leave a comment.
SUBSCRIBEAlready a subscriber? Log in