Pondering

I look through the same eyes I did 50 years ago.
I see you the same; you see me differently.
But I'm the same; just a frightened little boy in a man's body.

When I'm alone I get scared and I still hate the dark.
I'm sure that somewhere hiding on this earth has to be Santa.
I still feel helpless against the world.

I read an article about new wheelchairs today and the comments were terribly disrespectful.
Do we really hate each other that much?
Why do we like so much violence in sports?

Today I bought gas for about four bucks a gallon.
There are people who aren't eating well because of that.
Why haven't we addressed that?

Why does color matter?
Why is it that we have made no progress in so many years?
Is it really only important that I get ahead at your expense?

Why is it that there was better television 50 years ago with three channels than today with hundreds?
Why don't kids seem happy despite having a lot of stuff?
Why do cities have developmental tourist programs when there are citizens in poverty?

Kids that live near me don't know what "Kick the Can" is, or "Red Rover" or "Mouse and Cheese" or Dodgeball.

I don't see people talking together; I see them talking at one another.

What really bothers me is that I'm 50 years older and I don't have good answers to the same questions I had that many years ago and, it is more dangerous to ask them.

Well, these are the only eyes I have.
I can't give up.
I'm still a scared little boy but I held my own on the playground.

Maybe I'm not asking the right questions?