The Children of April

They came from everywhere, from places far and wide,
Most to learn and some to teach, all to share the love inside.
They went to a mountain school, amid the pines and whippoorwills.
They wore orange and maroon, in this city on a hill.

Youth dreaming of future days, while their teachers guided them.
One teacher saw the Holocaust, just to see it come again,
Erupting on an April morn, amidst a swirling wind,
A tortured mind bearing arms, an attempt to lock them in.

But the children of April can never be locked in.
They cheer at every game; they ride the swirling wind.
The children of April remain in God's embrace.
They are in the better hugs; they march in every May.

The children of April still cheer at every game.
Send messages of love, as we speak out their names.
The children of April remain in God's embrace.
They are in the better hugs.
They march in every May.