(I wrote this when I was eighteen, a long time ago)
The Vanishing Adolescent
Some adults met in a normal town
and said, lets always scold and frown
on rock and roll.
Lets keep these kids
with their minds on sex
from knowing much
while they are ‘twixt
the age of toys and maturity.
What shall we call
this age, they wondered,
while a boy
the facts of life did ponder.
Lets call it simply adolescents,
who knows what it means in essence?
One man tried to take a stand,
It’s the time a boy becomes a man,
But what is man someone might add,
the answer could be very sad.
The meeting continued….
Where is the perfect specimen
we surely must examine him,
how else can we truly mold
the character of the true and bold.
They looked around and finally found
a boy with freckles without a frown,
and to observing they did go
to find what they desired to know.
His dress was neat,
his face was clean,
and in his eyes
was no threatening gleam.
Surely this must be the boy
with hope and courage and self-esteem,
the one who quietly left his toys
for the world of twixt and in between.
They said, nodding approvingly, one to the other.
inside that freckled face benign
there was something that would make you cry,
inside were questions never answered,
inside was a heart that had been cancered,
and an ego crushed to pulp,
and not by such a thing as dope.
it seems to me quite strange
now a new dance has become the rage
are adults seen from town to town
frantically twisting up and down.