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Pretty Babies
(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

Pretty Babies

Poem By Lawrence S. Pertillar

Where are all the pretty babies,
Young folks had in their teens.
Young folks 'young' themselves it seems.
Where are the pretty babies,
Where are all those pretty babies?

Where are all the pretty babies,
Young folks had when in their teens.
Where are all those pretty babies?
Wanted and treated tenderly.
So cute with an innocence unseen,
Since 'then'.
How did all the ugliness seduce them,
When we wanted all their preciousness protected.

Where are all those pretty babies now who walk?
When we wanted their preciousness protected.
And where are all those pretty babies now who talk?
When we wanted their preciousness protected.
Where are all those pretty babies taught to steal.
When we wanted their preciousness protected.
And where are all those pretty babies now who kill?
When we wanted their preciousness protected.

Who left the pretty babies unprotected, .
Where are all those pretty babies now who walk?
Who left the pretty babies unprotected.
And where are all those pretty babies now who talk?
Who left the pretty babies unprotected.
Where are all those pretty babies taught to steal.
Who left the pretty babies unprotected.
And who is the next pretty baby killed.
Who left the pretty babies unprotected.
And leaving them without anything to feel.

Who left the pretty babies unprotected.
When we wanted to protect their preciousness.
Who left the pretty babies unprotected,
When we wanted to protect their preciousness...
When none of them today have any left.

Who left the pretty babies unprotected.
To leave them without any preciousness.
Who left the pretty babies unprotected.
To leave them without any preciousness.
Pretty babies.
Pretty babies.
Pretty babies.

Our,
Pretty babies.
Pretty babies.
Pretty babies.

Who left the pretty babies unprotected.
Who would do this to the babies?
Who left the pretty babies unprotected.
Who would do this to the babies?
Any baby!
Who would do this to the babies?
Any baby!
Who would do this to the babies?
Any baby!
Who would do this to the babies?

Our,
Pretty babies.
Pretty babies.
Pretty babies.
Now with criminal minds,
And gone detected is a preciousness.
With none found to find,
To call their ugliness precious.
Or once thought of it to protect.

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