Scorn Not His Simplicity
Phil CoulterSee the child with the golden hair
But eyes that show the emptiness inside
Do we know, can we understand just how he feels
Or have we really tried
See him now as he stands alone and watches
Children play a children’s game
Simple child, he looks almost like the others
Yet they know he’s not the same
Scorn not his simplicity
But rather try to love him all the more
Scorn not his simplicity, Oh no, Oh no
See him stare, not recognizing that kind face
That only yesterday he loved
The loving face of a mother who can’t understand
What she’s been guilty of
How she cried, tears of happiness
The day the doctor told her:”It’s a boy”
Now she cries tears of helplessness
And thinks of all the things he can’t enjoy
Scorn not his simplicity
But rather try to love him all the more
Scorn not his simplicity, Oh no, Oh no
Only he knows how to face the future
Hopefully surrounded by despair
He won’t ask for your pity or your sympathy
But surely you should care
Scorn not his simplicity
But rather try to love him all the more
Scorn not his simplicity, Oh no, Oh no, Oh no