Heads Down

Heads looking down, bodies clenched and bent, shuffling through the rain,

Figures connecting the fragile lines of their existence on a rainy day,

Reality is misty and truth is cold at best,

When reflections briefly shimmer in the mud dragged with every step,

Thoughts flitter silently like moths in an abandoned building,

Deep inside, far away in a vacant space, inside every one of the children,

Taking the world in absently it seems, if one doesn’t understand,

The very nature of children and how from absolutely nothing they expand,

Like the tiny rolling particles that together make up the rain clouds,

That release a gentle flow, constant, unnoticed, a storm with no sound,

With the potential to change lives, change the very Earth,

And what it keeps inside, it’s ancient worth…

I keep my head up...

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