Under Siege

Written by: Wiseton Prins

The present grandchildren of our ancestors
Staggering in circles
So lost in the struggle
A struggle to live
A life on the brink of the brim
Their rationality is under siege

Emotional tears of sorrow
Clouding the eyes of yesterday’s youth
For they can do nothing but stare
As the doom of today’s youth they’re certain
For theirs is an esteem long lost and gone
Their virtues ardently immoral

The dreadful question lingers in the hearts of many
Can we trust them to live till tomorrow
Let alone reaching and seeing it
For their purpose to be is enslaved by alcohol
Their passionate dreams overshadowed by the smoke of drugs
Their worth so less, of ultimate ruins they are absolute