Scraping your knees in seeking new heights as all children should.
You boldly claimed triumph and courage behind plastic daggers,
But hidden to well in make-believe quests was confidence beginning to stagger.
Dear Peter, where did you lose imagination's bravery?
Was it locked in the shackles of a broken family's slavery?
Dear Peter, won't you please, please return my call?
Look beyond yourself, it's not just your feet that are prone to fall.
Your gold crowns among green irises are chocked by hazel weeds.
Scoffing at your childish heroics you invite a victim to take the lead.
Intoxicated with blame of your mother's short-comings, anger rose, an accidental king
Seizing power in your father's absent authority you bait with charm on a string.
Dear Peter, where did you lose imagination's bravery?
Was it locked in the shackles of a broken family's slavery?
Dear Peter, wont' you please, please return my call?
Look beyond yourself, it's not just your feet that are prone to fall.
Bound by pride, you lose your vision to your own reflection.
Be wary, for I'm taking up arms to demand your attention.
Dear Peter, your name means "rock" but where do you stand?
I fear I cannot see your feet, they're so far buried in the sand.
Dear Peter, my voice grows hoarse from calling your name.
Whether I'm heard or not, my fight for you cannot be tamed.
