childhood's end

a good one - like utopia with nothing to worry about. food on the table, a roof over the head and lots of barbie dolls or toy solders. then the veil is shifted with teenagers questioning why with solemn adults pledging the fifth. it's not family law, but the adult is already set in belief. no sooner then the wind shifts again with teenagers becoming solemn adults staring at nothing. nothing gives, with a tug and pull, with a cake set to be squared away: you know. divided. and hungry dogs salivate. what's for me? but the divider is cut in heaven, and hell - with onlookers touching skin. flawless. or ugly. it works. till the silence becomes a voice. don't do this. don't do that and one bad egg spoils the rest. cast those dozen away. and onlookers they go on with activities mundane. suddenly busy when they were meant to take a break. it's smart, it's human nature. don't ask. don't tell. till it becomes a deafening voice - of silence. it cuts. it hurts. this game we play - nothing is amiss, nothing is awry, it's just another news gone fake. but hey, don't ask me, why. when games are played: because the silence is real, with childhood erased, and because serious issues have arisen. who gets what? and then who takes what? on and on - till the crescendo subsides with a stale water left untouched, the nice people are at merry parties making small talk - nothing is amiss. that's the problem.