where the sidewalk ends      |      shel silverstein
 
 
 
there is a place      where the sidewalk ends      and before the street begins,      and there      the grass grows soft and white,      and there the sun burns crimson bright,      and there      the moon-bird rests from his flight      to cool in the peppermint wind.
 
 
 
let us leave this place      where the smoke blows black      and the dark street winds and bends.      past the pits      where the asphalt flowers grow      we shall walk with a walk      that is measured and slow,      and watch where the chalk-white arrows go      to the place where the sidewalk ends.
 
 
 
yes we'll walk with a walk      that is measured and slow,      and we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,      for the children,      they mark,      and the children,      they know      the place where the sidewalk ends.