Looking back at the younger generation is
Like looking at a
spring flower bed
Many have bloomed with beautiful
Flowers of red,
yellow and white
Many still are in their buds of green
And a few have wilted
and died
All around the beautiful flowers is
The warm black soil with its many attributes
There are of course the weeds and drugs
Of misfortune that
rear their heads
The bugs of despair in the form of
Alcohol and smoke that chew on their leaves
Most of them still become the beautiful adults
Of summer with all
their flaws
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