Programed death

i hear the cries
of a child
i feel the shaking in the air
i try to hold on
for to let go
would let down the other's
some one must be strong
i can never give up
for to give up
would kill me
and my kind
we are a dieing kind

the children no longer play
the grown up no longer work
do you hear it
the silence its breaking
there is no laughing
only silence
of the frightened
who are left to die
in this dieing world
there is no hope
none can save
only the creater

we are a dieing breed
outdated programs
in this progressing system

no tears of joy
for the release
just the blink of a eye