The World Belongs To the Young
The world belongs to the young,
who know no boundaries, no limits,
unconstrained by time they run
through life like wild horses-- and
when they stumble, they never fall.
Unlike the old who know too well,
too hard, how dangerous time is,
how fraught life can be, how lost
are old hopes and tender dreams
and how brittle the steel of love.
So the young own the world, or so
they believe-- but soon enough
God or Fate or Chance will trip all
the fleet of foot & as they stumble,
some to fall (a few never to get up)
then the young will know how sad,
how very sad it is to truly grow up.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
