Scooba Kid

Life,
Spring,
Awakening,

A Youth begins to consume it's coccoon
Hardly prepared for what lies outside,
It's blind eyes begin to see
visions of disgusting beauty,
Joy is paired with violence,
Feeling good when others die,
Blissful ignorance to the truth,
Unobserved, for it's only play,
What a world, when kids play war,
And smile as they take their brother's life away,

Nothing new is to blame,
The television and the radio is produced
by those who played cowboys and indians
cops and robbers
while their fathers were overseas.
The excited minds of torturous children
Given the tools of an adult
Will pass a gun down to his children
Far larger than the one he held as a child
But no more deadly.

Children with toys
not fashoned to look like swords
or guns
For some reason, are considered lame,
The rush of survival
A deep and primal instinct,
A magical feeling,
An addiction,
Some will play doctor,
Some will play Astronauts,