Kids’ Prayer

So sad, so sad, the news come our way this morning Like a bad dream, a dream you never even talk about In a school, a school, where they send our precious children The one place of innocence the world might ever let them know And barely aware of the odds against existence in the first place Of love and fertility, of risk of a baby being born And of food and clothes and fear and maybe relocation Of sickness, recovery, of music lessons, painting the garage And lingering over eggs and thoughts and sleepy conversations And plans for the weekend, and one last pause to pet the dog And a glance at the clock and the grabbing of the sandwich and the notebook Confident of nothing but the unbroken days that they've been granted

But comes a child, a child so full of anger and hatred Barely aware of the genesis coursing through his veins With a gun, a gun, deaf and blind deliverer of madness Skilled in its efficiency beyond his own unformulated brain And with his hand in a fist, and his soul in a knot and his heart racing And his mind sick with images, his slim shoulders finally feeling tall And his fellow creatures, school kids in their crushes and their daydreams Struggling to unwrap the ancient secrets of geometry And he pulls from his coat the instrument to shatter all forevers In a random blaze of insides and blood and endless now And boom and flash and more and not even when it's over Can any of them so much as summon up the sanity to scream And on the floor his classmates blown down, and choking As he lays his weapon on his desk, partly sure he isn't dreaming

And all the world descends, and offers up their condolence And offers up their theories what went wrong and who and why and when and how It's all the killing day and night on television It's all the movies where violence is as natural as breathing It's guns and bullets as easily obtainable as candy It's video games where you kill and begin to think it's real It's people not having God in their lives anymore Or it's all of it, or none of it, or some of it, in various combinations Now all these theories, sound pretty logical I guess Though I ain't no scientist, I ain't no dissector of statistics I ain't no theologist, I ain’t no psychologist or biologist All I can do is offer up a prayer of my own

Talk to your kids, play with your kids Tell them your dreams, and your disappointments Listen with your kids, and listen to your kids Watch your kids, let your kids watch you Tell your kids the truth, best as you can tell it No use telling lies, your kids can always smell it Cook for your kids, let your kids cook for you Sing with your kids, teach your kids the blues Learn their games, teach them yours Touch your kids, find out what they know Be sad with your kids, be stupid with your kids Embarrass your kids, let them embarrass you Be strong with your kids, be tough with your kids Be firm with your kids, say no to your kids, Say yes to your kids, take it easy on your kids You were a kid not so long ago There’s things you know, your kids will never know There’s places they live where you will never go So dance with your kids, paint with your kids Walk with your kids, tell stories to your kids One day your kids, won’t be kids And maybe they'll have kids of their own Lets hope they talk to their kids, play with their kids Tell them their dreams, and their disappointments….