Who are the children of this town

that linger boldly on street corners;

biking the roads that which cars drive?

Listen carefully to their unheard song

singing of dreams dreamt and forgotten

in the ever ending cycle of imagination.

Look into their flowing life energy

can you see the dullness created;

created by our very hands?

Do you see the way they change,

do you think they prosper

from a land not in fruition?

How can they go on

when there is nothing to go to,

their heads downcast.

Electronics in their hands they smile

but when outside they squint;

they squint at the ever warm ball of light

Unknown to them is the idea of staying young

always wanting to be an adult so they don't have to listen

but in the future wishing it weren't so.

Nothing ever changes in this town

Nothing ever will

Not even when it comes to the children of the town.