a whim

marching men waving their freedom
in sailor suits and eiffel towers
sleeping on air and dreams so
even the foolish seem to understand
little girls playing in the sunlight
pretty yellow dresses stained naive
how blessed they are before they know
that tonight, the sun will fade
all that is sweet will turn to dust
all that is life will turn to rust
and some of us are guilty too.
pain is taboo and i use it quite often
in expressing what i feel towards all
well, maybe just a little.