Just Kids

Sitting in the seventh seats of our third grade classes, we escaped nightmares day dreaming of untold history

Beating on tables we were producers and disk jockeys befor the business of music tainted the fulfillment of sound

We were mechanical engineers building snow sleighs from cardboard boxes before being presumed pilots of get away cars

Drawing our signature sneakers we were practicing our autographs long before kids like us would think we were cool

We sharpened our scholastic debating abilities listening to our elder argue top tier entertainers and rhyme schemes

Our dangling feet longed to touch the ground so we could run the streets like marathoners, but we were just kids. 

What did we really know?