I feel like crying, “Mommy, what does it all mean?”
Am I quite the adult now? The child within me
Takes avail of defenses the best way it knows.
That’s why when I do worry how clearly it shows.
When alone I am able to rightfully see
That what’s newsworthy is bad for mental hygiene.
Why not try and be truthful, you news talking heads
With your minds in the pockets of those in control?
I’ll form my own opinions and get what’s to know
Or I won’t. If I don’t then good feelings may flow
To all people I know from the depths of my soul.
What does break the best nature like wildfire it spreads.
People seem empathetic and anxiously so
There’s too much information that makes lousy sense
To any kind of madness that I could conceive
Yet it takes but one sick one to firmly believe
Anything being sold simply because they’re dense.
What goes on below surfaces we’ll never know.
So some words may be helpful to give all some hope
That significant in the message must be truth
Even if it is nothing or something not known.
Why not try treating adults as if they were grown?
What may change for the better is up to our youth.
Tell us that you know nothing. With that we can cope.