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published in the 2001 Anthology of Poetry by Young Americans

The next generation springs from our souls

existing society dictates their roles

As the sun dawns on a new year

the toatsing glasses mask our fear

Revelation comes so near


A dread that our landmarks will diappear

we clamour noisily around to hear

the all faint sounds of little feet

and little faces at the door to greet

Revelation will we meet


Without these munchkins the house is neat

though filling the emptiness is a quite a feat

In the musty air listlessness lingers

Walls untouched by chubby fingers

Revelation now malingers