I wander through the world
a smile on my lips
around me the aura
of the irrepressibly young
my steps are light
although the shadows pool under branches
my path is washed wonderfully
with the warmth of the sun

An older man approaches
he spies me and with shaking voice decries
"Where would you go, young man
with a step that be so sprightly
thy countenance that shines so
Do you not see the shadows that gather?
life is serious, young sir
and to to be squandered so carelessly"
He grumbles and mutters
the well worn tracks in his mind
carrying old thoughts
"Ah, youth is wasted on the young"

I reply to him, as i must
this upright providence of a youth well spent
"Oh come now Grandfather
why should one look at the shadows
when we can look at the light?
did you not step so lightly once
smile at the world with boldness
have you not seen both
the darkness and the light in life?
Why then, do you choose
to see the shadows of the world?
It may be true what you say
youth may well indeed be wasted on the young
though you seemingly must agree
experience is wasted on the old"

The old man cannot deny my words
this paragon of age
he fades back into the shadows of my mind
and i
i continue on my merry way to self destruction.