Restless Are the Children

Restless are the children
who wake from their sleep,
Rubbing their eyelids
and dragging their feet.
Hallow are their dreams
senseless and pure
Haunted by skeletons
so they sleep no more.

Weak are the children
who wake from their sleep,
Broken and battered;
bruised by their dreams.
Fragile are their hearts
innocent and blind;
Taken astray
by a devouring mind.

Blue are the children
who wake from their sleep,
Necks broken back
from watching the sheep.
Faded are the bodies,
that end up alone;
Gripping at roses,
sunken by stones.

Hopeful are the parents
who leave on the lights,
Hoping their children
will return in the night.
For fruitless belief
they sit by their phones;
Knowing their children
will never return home.