The toys look on
Alone and afraid
Playmate lost
In diseases haste
A distant stare
To faraway place
A child is lost
To Heavens gate.
Parents who
Now distraught
Have to listen
To religious talk
To thank a God
All kind and good
In mysterious ways
A cross of wood.
Blasphemy stands
With broken heart
A trail of tears
A path now cursed
Life without
A child adored
On religion
They closed the doors.