When I was a boy,
Playing toy guns with my friends,
My father sat me down to teach.
Listen to me, boy
Keep it in your bag as you walk.
If your world were brighter
Your hands not so dark
The pigs wouldn’t be so hungry.
When I was a boy,
Playing toy guns with my friends,
Our dark hands hid nothing.
We were the mud in the pen
The slop in the trough
Oink!
Oink!
Oink!
The pigs went home full.
About the Creator
Jackson Reavis
My first instinct when I encounter strong emotions is to write, and mold them into something I understand. These are the results. Please enjoy!
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