Your canines bite down hard. Wish I had another pair. Hands they grab, legs they kick. I find it so hard to find any reason to this kind. Lost in digital wonder we break in front of the tele. The battle resumes behind closed doors on parental absence.
Few disciplining, lot dissonance, few more ... that make the neighbor's children scurry and the school children hurry.
The only play things for comfort were sticks, mud, stones and marbles. Two pairs of clothing dried in tears that await more feelings of hopelessness to which retire in our godhood bloom eternal. The vigilant battle continues onto the world beyond doors with strayed, stranded thought in traffic. Abandonment a muse whilst wait there, a feast for eyes in man.
But a child grows weary ... anticipating... it clutches a kaleidoscope the only source comfort. A state of constant wonder, blunder with an infinite disdain for life and world, and space in mute witness expands.
they will not bother they will leave us alone