how easy it is to pretend
that they would never feel the things we do
that they are so different from us

Do they look out the window as the past disappears
Are the words of poets more meaningful to them
Is freedom for the soul or for God
Who could know what is right

how easy to assume we will ascend
that we are forgiven while treating them cruel
that they are a race to distrust

What in their life accuses them of being in contempt
Is it outside God’s ability to control the message
Is freedom about fear or disobedience
Who could know what is wrong

how we try to dignify the end
they cover the bodies we expose like fools
but we both begin with a single cut

Is it what our parents taught us that we trust
Rebellion is only the ignorance of our youth
There is no world to possess
Only the moment to make them cry