Fears We Have For Children
The old man said, Johnny
It's time for us to leave
Lou Reed
You'll keep plastic bags away
From the cracks and absent soft
They miss the sounds in the womb
The wild electricity they sense
Drawers of pills, sharp knives
Child's play, what's in store
Years later the stumbling blocks
Most voices singing gloriously
Of that one track made perfect
Keeping errant cars from them
Roads they don't know the way to
Bad directions that change the mind
Danger in a sky above, the earth
Behind, the eyes left and eyes right
Below, keep all bloody things away.
© 2011 Rob Schackne
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