day 199

The children,

there must be a way to be an adult.

Are you over with your list of general rules?

smile with such cheekiness,
as if they know,

there is never a sure way, except the certainty of one's
savaging through the remains of others
usurping the other
substituting the other

what the adults are up to.

lie to them if we will
to reach somewhere else we don't belong.

Daddy? what does it mean to die?

it's always back to the age-old questions.
and the age-old lies.

A bedtime story is better.

Papa, tell me a bedtime story.

A wanderer came by to this town
And he asked a stranger,
"Are you a stranger in this town?"
And the stranger looked at the wanderer and replied:
"I don't know you, who are you?"
"A wanderer"
"I live here."
"Yah, are you a stranger in this town?"

Mornings staggered and stacked beside nights.
Anything we say becomes a bedtime story for our dreamy children.

Your story is boring!
Another one!

Do you have moments when you simply act foolishly?

I don't want to sleep!

We have our childish moments;
especially when we want to be taken care of.
Deep inside us, at least some of us, we just want to be reminded that...we just want someone to tell us...

mumble: Goodnight Daddy, Goodnight Mummy...

what to do