When young and dreaming minds are set to wander
Into distant and dancing planes
A rhythmic cadence does beckon
While the Earth yields to watch
As barefooted children play.

The tire swings again
Curious shadows linger  
Never too close
Never too far
A fulfilled existence to an unfulfilled world
A silent presence to an absentminded crowd
Accompanied by the laughter of barefooted children
As they play.

When innocent children grow old
And Innocence becomes Ignorance
Unburdened smiles are replaced with
Darkened spirits and carefully crafted words.
The past still remains present.
A mindful shield
Guiding a hollowed crowd
Absent imprints of the soles
Of barefooted children
Far too old to play.

Seconds begin to weather
Tender breaths are met with woeful groans
Hardened by the world
Agonized by joyful memories
Rotting from inside to out.
Alone.
Left to fall
Without any one to hear a sound.

Here lies a calm remembrance,
That while your melodies may become buried
Entombed by Concrete and Machine
When barefooted children turn
To heels and dress shoes and speech
The earth and roots will remain
Tattooed to the souls of our feet.