The Inheritance

I grow weary of the world you face.

A heart so forgiving, a soul entirely naive.

The mentality of innocence finds itself competing with a world so consumed by a named business.

One that torridly tears away childhood.

Primping our youth for adulthood in one quick sweep of events.

The intake of ceasefires, genocides, and natural disasters burns a pernicious hole so permanent.

I want you to put your trust in me.

I aim to coddle your screams, absorb a well of your tears.

Your endless questions set my existence in a state of unease.

My eyes, trimmed by wrinkles.

Marks declaring passed time.

Scars of horrors re-lived.

Your small windows remain untouched.

Skin unblemished by the swelling lacerations of life.

Encountering nothing of trepidation.

Still implacably puerile.

Custodially standing over you, I witness your eyes crack open.

Sang-froid, you stretch.

The poise of our future, featured in one meager and unenlightened body.

I want so much to crouch, to whisper to you our secrets.

To instruct you in the latitudinarian and magnanimous code that I choose to live by.

To wish upon you the foresight, the profundity, to classify baneful acts.

To light a fire, one burrowed deep within, capable of contesting those who defame your worldview.

Fighting the urge, I resist.

I will not take hostage or dragoon your innocence.

To do so would bludgeon a mind so pure.

An act so heinous, so entirely reserved for the evil minded of this world.

Instead, I crouch.

I stroke your tangled hair.

I meet your eyes.

I make the promise to protect you.

I reach for such an undersized hand, placing it within the guardianship of my own.

Lowering my head, I vow to hand over to you a world that I will be proud to relinquish.

One that you will inherit, 

One you inevitably revolutionize.