Older men
through wrinkled eyes
peer out
and see nought
but dilapidated dreams;
invented glories
reality adulterates, not.
Bygone memories
souped up:
thus do older men
nations lead.
And the youth of man
who once hung dreams
like beacons
from exuberant eyes
beneath eyes accusing
languid lie,
helpless, drowned
in the ever tide
of learned, older men.
Devoid of wisdom
given to
the economy of self
while society lies bankrupt.
Oh the youth of man,
fear not the future;
but fear
your leaders guile.
Phil Charters
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/youth-unemployment/
