The Children

The children are listening
To your words, your sounds
They hear what you aren't saying
As much as what you are
They hear your moods
Even when you don't know what they are

The children are watching
The world and all its craziness
The violence and destruction
The big people who act so small
They see it all and try to make sense of it
Even when it makes none

Where are your words?
When are your actions?
How are the children supposed to understand
When you and I are as lost as them?