Out Of The Rain - Long Form

Out of the Rain - Long Form Pocket marbles, dolls and beads, children's toys, that plant their seeds, Not guns and knifes, stained with blood, or screaming nights, that end in mud, Simple things to make minds grow, not caskets buried far below, A place to learn, mixed with cheer, not smoke filled holes, served with beer, We're the ones, to show the way, learn the past, and apply today, Not electronics with video gear, or articles filled with newspaper smear, It's hopeful futures, which brings them light, serene hearts, so they sleep at night, But in this world of chaotic pain, running with gangs, right into the rain, Running like dogs, in packs everywhere, they ravage and rage, and seem not to care, They hate and they hurt,  feeling only despair, with no where to turn, because no one is there, They learn on the streets, about love in their life, no wonder they look at the world with despite, For needles and darkness only bring havoc, and knowing your child is becoming a maverick, Take away love and caring from them, makes them all think, there's only one end, When people don't care, if they steal and lie, Can bring only tears, on the day that they die, Noah is here, but no one can see, there's no where to run, to hide, or to flee, You must look hard, deep in your mind, and straighten your back, and follow your spine, Let's open our hearts to shelter their fears, and comfort their minds, and wipe away tears, Adults are the ones, to watch the kids flow, they are the ones, who teach how they grow, When I was a child, I remember those times, I ran with the pack, and saw all the crimes, Then finally grew up, and saw what was right, I learned in my life, I must follow the light, If you love children, and you are smart, open your arms, your soul, and your heart, Light a smile on their face, chase away pain, and gather them close, out of the rain, Harvest all children, back to their home, give them the love, to make them belong, Dry all their sorrows, and cast them a light, build them a place in this world, that is bright. © J Fossier 9/98 Written September 1st, 1998 © on Apr 17 2002 03:12 PM PST   17 • 0 • 9