My friends a hypochondriac,
doctor twice a week.
He looks so strong and burly,
but feels so sick and meek.

He heard there is a cure out there,
that heals what ails him so.
I just don't have the heart to tell him,
he's taking a placebo.

My friend is big and mighty,
and the sugar pills do work.
He says he's never sick now,
no aches, and nothing hurts.

I'm happy for him, really,
though I wish he'd known much sooner,
that sugar pills have what it takes,
to heal the kids of boomers.

Our parents taught us to be weary,
as they had had no means,
to heal themselves in the time of war,
when they were all just teens.

But times have changed, and we can now,
heal most every sickness.
But still there are hypochondriacs,
needing sugar to cure weakness.

There will be no red jester,
no wolf, no jaded maid;
there will be me, of seven years,
blonde hair to narrow blades.

No speaking is involved;
we both know why you're here;
you've come to watch me evaporate,
or so both of us fear.

The lights start to get brighter;
the heat is too intense.
My body burns but you stand still;
the field 'round you is dense.

You stand so helpless,
As do I.
We watch the whole world crumble.
Friends of mine,
you don't know yet,
break away to rubble.

All at once, in not five seconds,
we're floating on in night.
The stars around me baffle;
no, this can't be right.

We're immortal, you see,
an affliction unforeseen.
Now I'm doomed to waft forever,
and live in the moon's gleam.

So the question stands, girl:
how long will you stay?
I remember a flitting dream;
it seemed to last a day.

Yes, it was, I do recall,
when I was not yet ten,
that I saw this all happen,
but I understood naught then.

So there it is, we have a day,
for me to impart all,
which of our grand hopes unfold,
and which were much too tall.

Don't be scared, my dear,
I'm sure we will be fine.
So take in all I say;
soak in every line.

We won't speak again,
and since there are few hours,
I'll share my words and hope they work,
in preventing the fire shower.

What seems like a minute,
but really was a day,
you start to blur and fade.
I'm sad you go away.

My fear is thick and soaked in tears,
and so we start to pray.

"Dear Lord, I know,
our world is broken.
It's full of hate and crime.
But, sir, please save the world I live.
It's all I have that's mine.
Find it in your heart, oh Lord,
to show this fille the way,
to stop the thugs and all the guns,
and give us one more day.



Amen."