The Lost Childhood

Remember our childhood years.

Our games were different, even our toys.

Our dreams were different, even our heroes.

We spoke of innocent things.

For our times were different.

Now how times have changed.

Their toys, prototype of real guns;

Their dolls of fashionable models;

Their games of violent themes;

They play to win not to lose.

The winner, a hero; the loser, a zero.

Losing ends in suicides in their world.

Winning is everything, means no losing.

When I look at their world with my eyes

A frightening question enters my mind.

Is it worth having a child

With the mind of an adult?