What Can One Say to Children, When Asked?

[Wackadoodle0987]

There is a stillness which is peace.


There is an agitation called anxiety.


There is a moving which is joy,


Then a quenching, impropriety. 


There is a nothing window to oblivion.


There is inertia of depression.


There is coldness of indifference.


There is need, and of appreciation. 


There is desperation to contribute. 


There is famine of the soul. 


There is question of acknowledgement. 


There is beauty which turns old. 


Why so wasted all that playing?


Why too late we understand?


That a seed can be a tree, yet a seed can be a man.


Only if it gets many chances.


Many don’t make it,


Or don’t make it whole,


Not in the real world.


And all we can advise is to try


And to hope. Maybe you’ll be lucky.


Try to take your chances.