But how can our children commit to the future
When hop scotch is not a game
When adolescents hang themselves with jump ropes
And monkey bars all form a cage
Jungle gyms are left deforested and their favorite slides begin to rust
Children drink motor oil in cans labeled orange crush
They fingerpaint in each other’s blood and have no clue they’re trained to hate
Live within their plastic bubbles and never once played in the rain
Cowboys and Indians to Cops and Robbers but now it’s not a game
It’s the Innocent and the Innocent robbing the innocence
In Oshkosh B’Gosh denim chains
These children eat toxic Crayola sticks and vomit rainbows miles wide
Bleed radical red as they’re screaming green to their periwinkle skies
Mothers know that if their baby is going to change the world
She first must change her own
And fathers feels this change too and soon this change will grow
And follow the conviction that our children’s lives deserve more fruit
Because the seeds we plant today will bring their bright futures into view
The children seek solace in this planet that they have yet to meet
Write their names in beach sand grains and it becomes concrete
Because as our world decomposes our children have got to keep the pace
Given embryonic cell phones with a 40 year old’s face
Our children have to ripen at an exponential rate
They have to hurry up to tackle… all the problems we create...
Because our children are losing their childhood
So I’m the reincarnation of their play
I’m what goes unsaid, between lines unread and I will bring them brighter days
With their giant ignorance in tiny hands, I sometimes loath their mere existence
Or I just envy their naiveté
Because when my future was bright I blinked and missed it
But reincarnation brought me to back
So that I can speak on their behalf
And made me appreciate my childhood that these kids may never have