And when there is so much to be done
About all that there is, about nothing,
Can we truly believe everything
Our spirits murmur once they are gone?
Oh when there is so little to do
For all we make, we destroy, we undo,
Can this beautiful world truly be changed
By a family that has long been estranged?
Is it worth it to keep on fighting this fight?,
Asks the wanderer with a sad smile;
He who has finally set foot home feels in exile
For everything has changed with insight…
We are the children.