To teach us forests are ugly

The hundreds of children
wanting fresh air and good advice
love and things to do
Forgotten books

Born to correct sitting in their circles
humbled by themselves
 draw them to the sun
 stop them from going to the forest

There is no magic book
no one real answer
we can't well count the blades of grass or leaves of trees
SO look away from them, look away

For from the rooms they were shunned
 from the door way awaited to leave
and into the forest the children go
out of control and against orders

curiosity is a mad horse
for the forest is not a tree filled shaded garden
It is the edge of the city full of littered bushes
It is where the plastic bags and dubious business is done

I try to call them out of the forest
into the sun they go to be born again far from the freak show
Their parents biggest sin was to desecrate such a wondrous place
the children learn in the sunshine on the grass not tempted by messy lies