Mild Child

These ten-year-old, smiling summer eyes.
They win, they win.
Their survival showed us how they could dance like angels.
Even when there's a talking on the clouds, the sun, some of you're never set, just learn to punish.
Being calm inside to hide away from age-old haters and wink.'
Beside, I try to hide, but I recall the alien eyes and what that felt like.
'cause they were happy laughing there, then the delayed window came.
But don't allow yourself to be beneath any kind of virtuous life.
Because each of us is both of them. One blowing out, one breathing in.