Old Neighborhood Youth
It was always such a delight
To see the children out in the night
Batting stones to curb
Picking at snails that trailed on the side of the wall
Just waiting for it to unstuck and fall
Ice cream melting down their grubby hands
The sound of a ball pelting the wet sand
The sounds of the shriek and screams and laughter
The start of a new game and everything after
Nothing like watching youth in the neighborhood
That kind of joy didn’t stay like they say it would
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