The mind of a child is a sponge,
Soaking up what others expunge.
Some fester with brackish water.
Swollen with poisonous matter.
Others, saturated with bleach,
Expelling contradictions their elders teach.

Youth wrung out, once over again,
Scrubbing away the grime and pain.
Now faint- the writings on the wall.
Rounding out their squared edges and standing tall.