Wall Children

Here you are, children, here
here
here on the wall, in the city.
Your clothes would say you're old,
too old to be children really dressed that way
because children don't dress that way anymore
unless they're on a stage
or performing a history report.
The window behind you shows blue sky,
though all around me is cloudy
and the other windows have bars on them...
And you're black and white black and white black and white and gray
so I know you mustn't really be there.
But your faces are so real to me,
and it makes me sort of weepy
for wanting you to be real
but knowing
you're
just
paint.