Growing Up

We live in our own world,

A world that is too small

For you to stoop and enter

Even on hands and knees.

A world where we dance, where we play,

Where life is still asleep

Enclosed in a warm cocoon.

I am afraid.

That we will soon wear black suits with black ties

And walk about smiling,

Shaking hands,

Saying "Good morning Sir" and "Good morning Mam"

To grown-up people on the streets

What if we can never play

Red Indian or tea party anymore?

What if the rain wouldn't fall?

And the sky – what if the sky

Would never be blue again?