A little poem I call...

Youth - R. Mould

If you ask me who I am,
I have but one word to say,
I would tell you were speaking,
To the youth of today.

I would tell you of my struggles,
And I would tell you of my strife,
I would tell you of those who weren't accepted,
And who took their own lives.

The words and tears would flow as one,
The emotions of the others of my kind,
The brunt of past, present and future,
And the reason we have been bind.

Tears would turn to anger,
As my story duly unfolds,
And the fables of so many stories,
That will be forever untold.

The stories of the average man,
Living in pure poverty,
This is not a man who's face you'll say,
You have seen on Disney.

Why is it then that when I'm asked,
So very few of my kin,
Are the ones given the burden,
To represent your sin.

Are we not one and the same,
Youth and sin?
Are we not forever plagued,
By man's greed that lies within.

Although now we are,
A facade of hope and life,
Deep within we know the truth,
That we are to be only greed's lustful wife.

Therefore I say,
Before you come and call upon the youth,
Remember yourselves,
Being the defiers of the truth.

Although we will try and push and fight,
To change the outcomes of your mis-doing,
But alas our attempts are in vain,
While you, your wallet are pursuing.