The More We Know
The more we live, the more we know
But no one wants to hear it
For what we’ve learned from long ago
Makes people doubt or fear it.
The modern methods serve the young
So all our wise conclusions
Are seen as quirks to which we’ve clung,
Our warnings as intrusions.
The irony is as we age
We shrug at the rejection
For youth can never truly gauge
The folly of perfection.
Thus we observe and try our best
To stop from interfering
Since anything we might suggest
Won’t be, to them, worth hearing.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2020
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