Past these streets
On my way home
I see these young flesh
With burnt skin, tarnished
Run as we pass them.
As we halt by the next stoplight
A boy lurked by my window
He stared as I stared
He knocked as I shook my head.
A doomed city of fallen angels
With no choice but to live in vain
Does anyone care?
Am I affected or do I care?
The engine is running, I can hear and feel it
The children are running, and smiling
The irony of life
Anyways, they’re too young to understand.
There's something to be done
Is it value system, economic drive, change?
Or accuse the children’s parents for lack of judgment?
But then, maybe, just sincere care and help would do.