Too many hangars in the closet, a clutter of confusion Too little rectitude to hold a moral absolute Too much distinction to relate to them Irresolutions we contemplate with no end In this world of give and take And what we refer to as maturity From emotional need to technology has you, a cultured seed of your society, Lacking ability to feel clemency, I'm surprized we still Bleed into the abyss of despair that's hiding the child Compassion you would not dare admit to have experienced Do you regret looking back? A penitent confessing his sins The child inside of me recalls a time of purity, an outlook of release You remember, confident that you were able A future laid out on your table Running through memories a child is free The world restored you see, I see The child inside of me
