We were the balloon catchers
The tree jumpers
And bread carriers
We were the coat pocket hide-n-go-seek sunshine pals
We were the cat walkers
Boy kissers
Closeline hanging dirty-kneed trousers
We were the satin cigarette on the tip of your fabricated tongue

We were the toad capturers
Drum beaters
And flower crown crafting field runners
We were the carriage-pushing crocheted
baby blanket thinkers
We were the picnic havers
Pipe smokers
Bunkbed whispering wing flappers
We were the paintbrush whisking tulips
of your withered garden

You are the war fighters
Love hunters
And pumpkin-patch hand-holders
You are the carnival-going popcorn
smile throwers
You are the music dancers
Test-takers
Picture-taking flower-pickers
You are the world fixing babies of
our destruction

Here's the world, child
Don't mind the bruises