Dedication to children

As I sat in a corner
Watching and looking,
They were unaware.
And kept running and playing.
Looking at them I could only think,
What is long lost for me at a certain brink.
Yet I find them beautiful,
Their play, their fights, yet all cheerful,
Transform anything by nature into a plaything.
The raw talent in working.
In between calling out their mother
To show the new game created,
Or to accuse each other.
But mother knowing it to be an annoying habit,
Ignores it altogether.

The elders continue to play,
In between the young one vanished and lay,
In the mother's lap for some pampering.
They mother well aware starts caressing.
Having the lap's fun,
The little one again on the run.

The purest forms of human race,
Play with each other with grace.
Without differentiating colour or class,
Like they were altogether, just one mass.