Like believing the weatherman decides when it snows
And that planting a tenner makes a money tree grow
Like closing your eyes means you’re no longer seen
And a world before you could never have been
It’s the same small child who notices colour
But not when it’s on the skin of another
And has no idea who’s rich or poor
Or that there are diseases without any cure
We knew so much more before we were taught
Look at us now. Who would have thought?
Lea Simpson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/weatherman-decides-when-it-snows/
