#61: Thank The Lord - You Can't Go Back! (Youth)

Someone Else Might Well Be Braver
When They Learn To Use A Shaver . . .
And Some Of Us Might Truly Savor,
The Loss Of Childhood's Wink And Waiver . . .
To Welcome Lines That Time's Engraver
Carve Into Your Face.
Forget Your Fashion And Your Favor . . .
You Overcome All Qualm And Quaver
When You See Your Youth's Cadaver,
Knowing That You're Now Much Safer,
Having Left That Place!

We were getting pelted with a bloody rain.
The Car was reddish-pink.
The husks and seeds of a thousand plants
were sticking there, I think.

It seemed we traveled for hours 'til
the Car began to slow.
"I really don't like the looks of this . . ."
My thoughts were read by Jo.

The engine stopped, the door flung out . . .
we stared across the hill.
The scene there looked so ruthless that
I suffer nightmares still.

The ground was strewn with eggshells, and
the prints of tiny beasts.
The air was full of pollen . . .
and screams that wouldn't cease.

Around the hillside, metal stands
held coin binoculars.
"Okay, Jo, I'll give it a glance . . .
I hope this nickel's yours.

By the way, you must forgive me if
I seem a little brash.
I have to borrow some change from you . . .
I haven't got the cash."

The scene was awesome, and totally new,
but still reminded me
of other States that seemed to work
almost a-morally.

Creatures were killing creatures with
no symbol of remorse.
The slaughtered accepted dying like
they had no clear recourse.

And then I chanced to watch an act
that made me feel as though
we might have landed in a State
I'd known, but long ago.

A boy and a girl, there, barely blessed
with fuzz of puberty,
were having sex within the shade
of an apple-laden tree.

They thrashed around like animals,
both biting at its mate,
until a falling piece of fruit
hit their conju-plate.

It fell upon their grassy bed,
within the grasp of each.
I watched as he raised up to look,
and then began to reach.

It was over very quickly when
the female grabbed a stone.
When the male bent down to grab a stick
she crushed his cranial bone.

"Holy shit!" I jerked away
to leave that horrid sight.
"Jo, you won't believe this place.
It's really bad, all right!"

Jo moved in, but then I blocked
the eyepiece with my hand.
"It's horrible, Jo . . . a world that shows
the Devil's own hot brand.

Maybe we've gotten to Murder Land,"
I tried to incorporate
the ruthless spectacle we witnessed with
some kind of Philo-State.

Then Jo pushed my hand away
to look through for himself.
"Wait," I held him back again,
"maybe their seeking Hell . . ."

My mind raced on, trying to weigh
the terrible evidence,
"we've finally come upon a State
of vengeful virulence."

Jo stood back, somewhat amused.
I searched for another word
that might describe the horrors that
my senses had incurred.

"No, that's not even scary enough . . .
true Anger might be it.
I can't even find a gruesome word
bad enough to fit."

I was gazing off to the distance,
lost in a day-nightmare,
Jo squeezed by and grabbed the stand,
and caught himself a stare.

"Okay," Jo said so blithely,
"they're kissing and eating fruit.
Heck, we've seen all this before.
What's so tough to compute?"

"What?! What are you talking about?"
I imagined another guy
now being slaughtered for a fallen pear
as I stooped again to spy.

I focused my eyes back to the ground
where I knew blood was shed.
Jo was right. The boy was up,
and back with her in "bed."

It was then I noticed the apples fall
in abundance from the tree.
"A-ha, this is the Forgiveness State,"
I concluded confidently.

"On the other hand," I thought to myself,
"I would expect this State
to require an elder's wisdom be
exampled here, someplace."

"You know," I said out loud to Jo,
"one thing that bothers me . . .
There's nothing here past budding youth,
as far as I can see."

"RIGHT!" A Voice explosion shook
the ground on which we stood.
"Finally, Bo, you used your head
for more than ire-would!

You weren't too wrong at 'vengeance,'
and 'anger' was kind of close.
Though 'forgiveness' is a part of it,
it's less than you'd suppose.

If you had time to hang out here,
and study Youth some more,
you'd learn that, as a State, this place
it is treated superior.

It bothers me, if you must know,
that allowances are made,
for a snotty little brat-of-a-spot . . .
that'll never meet the grade.

And with all its temper and selfishness,
Youth has hoodwinked Grace.
It snubs its nose at karma, while
it takes its favored place.

It recovers from every excess . . .
makes fleeting any pain . . .
commits the most egregious goofs,
to laugh and play again.

Insulting rules of life and love,
it bites at all behest,
confident that, come dinner time,
it is the honored guest.

And if we didn't celebrate it,
it might not be so cruel.
But, for too long, we've taught it that
we are its eager fool.

Revered and worshipped, it remains,
and we will leave it so,
for, though Youth is abusive,
its innocence does show.

And we will recognize that Youth
deserves a special stage,
to act its part aggressively,
with energy and rage . . .
for soon enough, the playwright bows,
and tosses on the stage
the script that Youth must follow hence . . .
to settle down and age."