“It’s our baby who’s dying”, the fathers are crying. The mothers are strangled with grief.
And some come in nameless, abandoned and blameless, conscripted to life rendered brief.
And the reaper that waits them is taut as he takes them and shies from the bright, blazing rod,
Of the angel that bids the world’s loneliest kids, to the all-loving arms of their God.
And a sad little teddy sits patient and ready, his face is set pallid and drear.
Been rejected of late by that same little mate with
“AIDS…INFECTIOUS…KEEP CLEAR”.

Was it nature or God who turned the first sod to extract this enforced retribution?
Some reason as ‘clear’, and venture to sneer, “It’s the gays’ and the molls’ contribution.”
All mankind will cringe at this terrible binge and the toll that will cause us to dread it.
And Christ help the one – the daughter or son – who knowingly options to spread it.
And some time tonight you might wake in a fright at the sight of life’s great Overseer
As He touches the face of the whole human race … and writes
“AIDS…INFECTIOUS…KEEP CLEAR”.

There’s a lesson to learn at this century’s turn, for the warnings are posted and clear -
We must sever the need for the lust and the greed and work on the want and the fear,
To unredden the rags of the old battle flags and slit the red jug’lar of war.
We’re as much to blame, for this trans-global shame, as the dealer, the gay or the whore.
And some time if we ready, the eyes of a teddy will not see the pain or the tear
On the face of a tot or a sign on his cot that says,
“AIDS… INFECTIOUS… KEEP CLEAR”.

Robert Raftery ©