With age comes wisdom,
      Yet so many die,
         Before their time,
            By their hand,
A society that measures them
     By the quantity of their success
          Not the quality of their being
We notice decay and adore youth
      Clothes are skin thick and needle deep
            Human life is cheap
               To be used
                  Discarded
Like so many cans of soda
      Drained to the last drop
          Whatever remains
             Dries out in the summer
                     Freezes over in the winter
And they wonder why we are cold
        Why we are heartless
               Why we use
                                                       You taught us this.
The young
   The beautiful
        Whoever said we have it easy
               Should have been hung by his toes
         And left for the crows
     Maybe if they took his eyes
He would know a fraction of our pain