Children

All will grow and all will bloom,
Maybe different ,maybe unique.
Maybe early ,maybe late.
Sureto shine maybe on the darkest night,
Let them fly, do not tie, they go unnoticed,
From the back benches of the class,
Straight to the concert or parliament,
You never know ,what they become.
All Gods plan and grace,
That falls on them,
What they are, what they become.
Who are we to judge,
Count on them, edit them or mark them,
Or they may leave a mark behind.
Let them play, let them shine………