Life Back Then

To my future grandchildren, should they enter this world and ask –
“Grandpa, what was life like back then?”

Life was what it’s always been –
kind of a crazy game.
Couldn’t agree how to keep score;
won and lost the same.
Rulebooks all looked different;
one person to another / one place to the next.
Culture couldn’t reconcile
different language / different text.
We wrote compassion,
read it as hate,
acted on impulse,
counted it fate.
Borrowed against a future
we didn’t quite believe in
to pay for a present
we couldn’t quite afford.
And you, child — you were collateral.
That world — that future — is yours.
I’d apologize but what’s the use —
It wouldn’t change a thing.
An empire under our abuse;
now we name you King?
I hate to say ‘that’s life’,
but you play the cards you’re dealt.
We didn’t start the fire,
but we kinda watched it melt.
Never did build that wall,
but we sure didn’t tear any down.
Wanted one thing out of life –
leave something better than we found.
But for all our best intentions,
long hours, trials by fire,
causes we fought for,
plights we admired –
Can’t say we left a thing
as real and simple and true
as the wondering soul in your eyes,
the good that lives in you.