when our Skin was young

Remember the days when our skin was young,

And we could hear the mocking birds sing.

When our minds were new, there was morning dew,

and our fingers had no ring.

It wasn't fair, what life knew then,

he waited to tell us now.

It wasn't fair, what the sky knew then,

all we ever saw were clouds.

We knew that hands would age (not ours)

and we knew that people die.

Such troubled thoughts weren't for our hearts,

so in the field we'd lie.

We'd think of the days when the world would be right,

and there'd be a cease of war.

Perhaps it was this day (that never came)

that made our bones so sore.

So now we sit, waiting for our turn,

to ascend into heav'n above.

we'll do our best to rid our hearts,

of everything but love.

-Kyle