Wave of Changes

I wake, two sets of eyes,
One in the present, living,
Another in hindsight, observing,
One set living through it all,
Another watching it happen again,
One set ignorant to time,
Another pining for it back.

A green container home to a team,
Harboured by children, then by teens,
Moved, replaced by a running track,
An artificial river and a grey building,
All more efficient in their use,
Yet none replicating that feeling of home,
Or the memories of past matches.

And one set of eyes live through the changes unawares.
And another set watches them all through streaming tears.

A class of seventeen, separated by circumstance,
In need of knitting, it never sowed,
Groups of four and groups of one,
A unison only found in its division,
Both sets of eyes sadly agreeing,
Three from seventeen is a bare figure,
Where did the other fourteen go?

A girl younger than I, flaming on top,
Is pregnant, when she herself is no woman,
A child inside a child, not nature’s way,
Another girl, a year older than I,
Has two already, with more to come,
The sets of eyes have yet to live life,
The girls will never get a chance.

And both sets of eyes turn as sirens come to punish the same crime.
And both sets of eyes can only watch another wave of change pass them by.