Our Children’s Timeline

 

 

Time has meaning to everyone,

We may be nestled within our own

Quarter of the globe,

But time is everyone’s meaning

For we don’t know,

Can never grasp the sense

Of how long we each last

Upon this world.

            Time, presents

Depths to write futures and

As humans we hope ascend

The days that history taught

Nothing but war, nothing

But troubles we bring into being.

     We each pray our own way,

We each ask of God the blessings for

Our children, and as new life

Begins its journey to write

His, or her own history,

We take a slighted look at

Time gone by and dust off

The remnants of battle.

            Scattered are many,

Here and there as homelands

Are sacked, yet the child of

Our time knows nothing

Of treachery man does upon man,

But in years to come

While shine still talks

The language of angels

They’ll know of blood spilt

And violence.

Our best, is to shield them,

Our test is to promote a hand

Of friendship across seas and lands,

For if we do not cease the proliferation

Of war, then peace will not

Be the child that’s born,

Time has meaning,

But the child knows nothing of this,

Nor politics, nor money, nor bigotry,

Or Religion!

Time has meaning,

But meaning,

Is never found

At the bottom of pits

Small and square,

Designed only for the

Coffin, of the child

That never lived.

 

Michael J Waite! Year Zero.