Cycling

There was a decidely dark day in the middle of a measely may rain when little children sparked the spirit of disinterest in the hearts of adolescents adorning the aged halls of a secondary school,

They fawned over the height of intelligence that the towering teens demoted and graveled at their feet with questions as wisful and precarious as the precious poetry of children's vocabulary,

The older children commended the appetite but did not feed the mouths of the babes for they were too preoccupied with racing minds of sexual desires and motus apprendi of self esteem assaults,

They were told to look with lidless eyes into the abyss of future times so that the horrifying detrimental faces were all the little kids could hope to abide for that is what they saw in their saintly little eyes,

Afeared they were of growing old that the children read up on Peter Pans and Wonderlands, craving to crawl through cavernous holes to follow the white rabbit towards a better goal,

But after all of that the adults still drove them towards the end of the earth where seniors in schools stood on the brink of an amazing abyss and shout to them to grow up and be damned,

And the people on the other side of the monsters eyes, who are imprisoned and watch with tearful blinds, continue dribbling out the sadness sanctioned on them by those who pushed them over the cliff side,

There was a decidely dark day in the middle of a measely may rain when little children sparked the spirit of disinterest in the hearts of adolesencts adorning the aged halls of a secondary school.