Running

We train for ill
And worse to come
While listening for the recess bell
To tell us that our shift is done
To now
Go out and play.

Ding. Ding ding. Ding ding.
A hundred times—once more.
We hear
A death knell's sound
And fury of the times to come:
Worse times—what else
Could children know
That had grown up to grow quite old,
Too weak to be outside and play
Too soon?