There is a park of calming surround, people from Bolton arrive all around, feeding the ducks, children on swings, for some it is a place to hear the birds sing, usually there is an Ice cream van ringing ‘Ding a Ding Ding’, not for little Emily Jones
Go for a walk then have a run, take the dog, join in the Fun, whatever you like it’s everywhere, Queen’s Park is nice to see, sometimes a bouncy castle that is free, look at the plants or the trees, locals say it’s Humdrum, not little Emily Jones.
A sickness of possession, it’s a wicked cruel world, that takes the life forever, of a wonderful little girl, call it what you may, a mind in disarray, Schizophrenic feud, or a crazy mental mood, irrelevant to the Mum and Dad who lost little their girl at Seven, little Emily Jones will be in Heaven.
Some say life in prison is not a long enough sentence, it is a way to pay some kind of penance, some drugs injected into her brain, she’ll never be the same, will not be free again, lock her up throw away the key, she will never feel the pain or the same as Little Emily Jones.
Rest in peace blessed little angel. XxX
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