Youth or young, both the same.
Good and bad, or fun and lame.
What is youth? Is it a time to rebel?
Some say it is a time to learn.
Some say it is a time spent in hell!
All I know is, it is what you make it.

"Where are the youth?" I hear you cry.
They have all gone to war
Maybe to die
or to come back all torn, grizzled and sore.
They all cunningly crafted their lie,
and were all sent to war,
all strapping and packing with an bottle of rye.

"What are the youth doing?" I hear you ask.
Are they plying in the park?
or perhaps dancing daintily in the ballroom?
They are dancing; but not daintily or gracefully or even hapily.
For they dance to the beat of the Hun's drum.
Dodging and flailing, jumpingh and diving.
Are all part
of the new dance
that ends with a glancing lance
to out youth's heart.

Youth or young, both the same.
Foolish or brave, dumb or slow?
What is youth? Is it a time to sieze?
Some say yes.
Some say no.
All I know is, it is what you make it.