The world is a war.
Children can't even play outside anymore.
Bullets fall down as easily as rain,
as fathers and mothers weep from the pain.
No more midnight movies,
or school day fun.
No more trips to the city,
to go on a run.
Bombs blow smoke clouds up in the air,
filling the air with such a despair.
The ground splattered blood red
and Nike Free blue.
Lunch halls with bullet holes
and soaked with spilled juice.
And the playground goes quiet,
just ghosts on the swings.
Not old enough to know what happened,
never even seeing sixteen.
And if you wonder why I worry,
and always want you safe..
It's stories like these,
that really make me pray.