Not for Sale
You killed my children,
you wounded the children I loved.
You gave them a whip,
when they needed a helping hand.
You left scars upon their bodies,
and deeper wounds inside their minds.
You saw their frightened faces
and answered their pain with a smile,
as though their suffering
were something to enjoy.
Your dark vision swallowed their night souls.
Your hidden smile was never a savior.
Sometimes they showed their hands,
opening them toward you,
hoping for kindness—
but you gave them pain instead.
You wanted their silence.
You wanted their submission.
You wanted minds that could be controlled,
souls that could be treated like property.
But we have no children for sale.
We have no souls for slavery.
A child is not a slave.
Innocence is not a possession.
Parenting is a mature human responsibility:
to protect, to guide,
to listen, to nurture,
to hold a child when they are afraid,
and to teach them how to stand in freedom.
You may leave scars,
but you cannot own their future.
You may wound their minds,
but you cannot extinguish their light.
They carry their own names.
They carry their own souls.
They carry their own freedom.
We are not for sale.
Our children are not for sale.
Their hearts are not yours to break.
A human heart should protect another human heart.
A parent should be a shelter,
not a source of fear.
And no matter how dark the night becomes,
their souls will keep searching for the light.

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