The glory days are over,
nothing lasts.
There is no such thing as forever,
look at the hour glass.

This was going to be metaphorical,
something that would make an impact.
But my life is too confrontational,
to even make a solid pact.

I know what some people would say,
that i'm sixteen, and have not faced real problems.
But do you know what problems are in my way,
that block the garden that no longer blossoms.

Everyday I wake up,
I look into traumatized eyes.
These poor children who are seen as a hiccup,
a mistake, that has been made by the unwise.

I do not think they are a mistake,
but I sometimes wish they weren't born.
Abusive homes that made them ache,
echo in their souls that are torn.

How do you fix something so broken?
When you are still trying to find yourself.
How do you get chosen,
to watch shells of children beg for themselves?

Am I a kid?
I can't be one in this situation.
I put on a lid,
and shut out my childish temptations.

Too much too soon,
it suffocates me.
I love them so much that I swoon,
when they cry from the pain that won't leave them be.

I try, God knows I do,
to help them live.
We helped one before and he has become new,
but the others, I fear, can not understand what we give.

How do you teach a child creativity?
Or teach them that hitting, is not love.
How do you teach them to act independently?
When they act as one to not get smacked from above.

When does this madness end?
Can it all become normal?
Forever, changes and bends,
I should have known it all would crumble.

One of them is afraid of the dark,
another is afraid of closed doors.
The monster in the dark is real and it sparks,
the other to be locked in rooms alone, fearing the war.

The security blanket was burned long ago,
it must be knit back.
Patch by patch we sow,
and hope to God they don't enter the black.

The glory days are over,
they have been for a long time now.
I hope I can help these children find a four leaf clover,
they need the luck, i'll help them, I won't bow.