Too many hangars in the closet
  A clutter of confusion
  Too little rectitude to hold
  A moral absolute
  Too much distinction to relate to them
  Irresolutions we contemplate with no end
  In this world of give and take
  And what we refer to as maturity
  From emotional need to technology
  Has you, a cultured seed of your society,
  Lacking ability to feel clemency
  I'm surprized we still
  Bleed into the abyss of despair
  That's hiding the child
  Compassion you would not dare
  Admit to have experienced
  Do you regret looking back?
  A penitent confessing his sins
  The child inside of me recalls a time of purity,
  An outlook of release
  You remember
  Confident that you were able
  A future laid out on your table
  Running through memories
  A child is free
  The world restored you see
  I see
  The child inside of me