When I was a child
I laughed and wept, with little prod
And wondered where candies were made.
As an adult, on short breaks
A brief encounter was made
Handshakes with serendipity
Merry making with liquid miracles
And in companion in communion in union
Where the free spirited, gather
We called the bluffs of stress and worry
With mockery and laughter
Until the cows came home.
Today, in new dawns,
We wear our helmets of thinker's cup
With suits to conform, ready for battles
Rome has to have it's share of the cake
And the tax man is impatient
Something to do with his, poor childhood.
A luta continua is the order of the day
And the front line stands as where
We are required, in uniforms of codes
That time will be on us again, to break glass
But for now, buckle up, friend
There are bumps on this road