the promise of a crayon

every day i watch children jump too fast into their opponents shoes.
i watch their hands craft little flowers into crowns 
as their hearts get crafted into bricks.
decorated with dirt, they vow to never leave their mothers side.

i watch the buzz of their minds become as useless
as the holes in their ears. 
i watch the cracks in their minds grow as big
as the broken glasses they hold. 

each one waiting to be filled.

and i sure wish it would rain
. 
because the dryness is rubbing them bare.

i watch them apologize for a paper airplane gone wrong, 
each one left out in the rain, 
but real apologies won't exist in their minds.
each promise to 
fix 
repair
enable
create
will bite the inside of my cheek
where my best ideas get flushed down the the bottom of my stomach. 

this generation is gone
and the best of them won't measure up,

just like me.