A Letter to My Youth

How was it you flew a fighter jet like a phoenix into Everyman’s heart?
Was it for the literature or for the quick depart?
Did He make you sick just to poison you?
Tell me, what was it like having so many boys in you?
I’ll light a candle for you, a sinner, uh!
Back then, you were thin and you’re thinner, naw.
“ANTI-HUSBAND” and “ANTI-WIFE”, are you still single at all?
If you’re “ANTI-GOD”, then you’re without a costume at a masked ball.
Rebel, rebel, now it’s your voice you sell.
You’ve become a quick wit, running from cliché like a gazelle.
But, importantly, you’ve survived.
A dandy who’s lost his sunflower, but a dandy who’s not deprived.
To you, my Youth, I have only this to say:
The price is not silver, but a bleeding soul to pay.