the children in his yard again
scare gentle animals away
voices recall forgotten pain
visions of his past held at bay

screetching out vile poison now
it's noise pollution he will say
little one's really care less how
their stupid mouthings ruin his day

yes he'll imagine them all down
cold and dead within the ground
this thought will never make him frown
if it brings an end to their sound

what right have they to talk so loud
upon his lawn and tread about
bringing misery like a cloud
a knife concealed in every shout

silence, long ago his one friend
the only parent who would hear
desperate pleas that he did send
in a childhood filled with fear

nobody else would pay him heed
except animals that he'd see
as they nibbled on plant, and seed
or leaped about from tree to tree

why should he be a witness to
their vulgar cries, their stomping feet
when for him none ever would do
the same, answering by retreat

why should these ingrates have the right
to break his silence and his mind
to fill the animals with fright
why should he pretend he's not unkind

the world has shown it did not care
to hear his voice when he was small
so he will hate them to be fair
and rejoice knowing they will fall

let them enjoy their obscene ways
let them enjoy their shiny toys
the silence for them surely lies
in wait to take all girls and boys

their lives might be better right now
than his was - this much is quiet true
but the world will keep it's grim vow
to make them all the victims too