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Poem

It seems that a bad cloud of rudeness is on the horizon
That would like to cause bad weather
Seems to have a real bad attitude
Make one wonder where respect has gone
Maybe could be a lack of a strap of leather
No more Yes Sir and No Sir, now, "Hey old dude"

They say that it is just a trend, "talking trash"
They say that they are cool and that they rule
Until that talk lands them in jail
And big old Bubba settles their hash
Then they see the real fool
Because in there it is pass or fail

Some say that they will grow out of it, just having fun
But some never do, is there to stay
Like a gentle breeze to a hurricane
Then the damage has been done
When the Devil is at play
In one way or another we all feel the pain

A playful whirlwind to a terrible tornado 
Twisting and tearing as it makes it's path
Most all are in this form
Hell bent for leather as they go
Spinning out of control spreading their wrath
No, it is not just a passing storm

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