They are the only ones who are innocent to me. I am innocent to them. Two chubby babies with fat rolls and pudgy faces. Two who have no choice where to go but are here. Two carbon copies of their parents. In their room, everyone can hear them, but everyone is irritated with them. 
   

Their innocence is their secret. They have a fresh start with no penalties. They will grow up and try to grab as much knowledge as they can and will never worry about guilt or pain in their first few years. This is how they keep.
   

If a baby experienced right and wrong from the beginning of his life, he would fold under the pressure, never wanting to grow in fear of the scary world it lives in. Keep, keep, keep, they say when they play. They teach.
   

When I am too weighed down and despondent to keep keeping, when I have to deal with the wrongs in this world, then I look at the two chubby babies. When it seems like there’s no good in the world. Two who grow despite the evil in this world. Two who reach and dont forget to reach. Two whose only reason is to play and play.