Coincidence, Reality

By
The kids have left
The scraps all scattered
The scissors lay unused,
But on the table
Is the thoughts
Those parents rarely choose

For to a kid, black and white
Are colors that mean nothing
But to their parents, a real fight
Those colors can cause something

The innocent minds protect the young
That is what we tell ourselves
However in truth, the young know more
Because they have not learned to delve





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