Their old work of trees and mountains
Their lakes and rivers left behind
Their deserts where they ran out
Of things to say surviving
Their flowers animals and birds
But didn't we have a part in it
When they put supper on the table
And let us play out all night
How can we still be children
Flooding the streets like stars
As if the cosmos put us here
Motherless fatherless fathomless
As if after all this
They could abandon us
To our toys and cries
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