Poems I Almost Burned (Along with My Sanity)

City of Children

Here in the City of Children,

Our stone and aether cage,

We never starve or suffer

Or fight, or die, or age.

We never feel our illness.

We never think of home.

As far as we remember,

We've always been alone.

Here in the City of Children,

We love Miss Guinevere.

She sings us lullabies and says,

It's better that we're here.

We love the friendly lion.

We know that he's a fake.

It's better that we play along,

Than some disaster make.

Here in the City of Children,

We spy some ash and fire.

We dip our hands into the soot,

And asks what it conspires.

Is there a way out of this cage?

And how did you get in?

We can't remember why we are,

Trapped in the City of Children.