Tears of the Children

There it is, the puddle of humanity, the tiny lake of sadness you can't ignore. She sits on that rock of red and blue, her green dress soaked while her pigtails bob as she cries. Crystal nightmares fall from her blue eyes stabbing the blind hearts of those who chose to silence that voice. Evil wasn't just the thought that absorbed their minds but naivete to what should be better. Hopscotch will never be the game, war and murder is our new joy. Stupidity never looked so common in the house of white. WHERE ARE THE SANE? Where are the masses that sang hallelujah to a new beginning? The masses that picked democracy over one man's lies. The protectors of our children that kept them innocent. Our we on a rollercoaster to destruction? Where are the white saints to keep us from following the path of demons? Does the fear climb up your spine and seep into your soul that it holds your opinions? I know it doesn't keep the children from crying out. Is it easy to watch? You continue to battle, nothing done until were on top. When the young begin to fight, is that when the blood will cease to shed? On their tiny knees, hands pressed in hope of something beautiful. Do you feel anything then? Their cries to the holy one for a moment where its just sunshine. Remorse falls deadly on your shoulders and yet denial is what you scream. Will you try to open those eyes so ignorant because bliss is so much easier to swallow and let the children build a more true time where the lullaby of tranquil can be heard?