(Dire Youth)

A Poem by Ed Rector

Routine lapse Pt. II of X

At a young age imagination plays a key
To keep the doors locked, from the surrounding reality,
From the bombs that flew over innocent heads,
From the poverty stricken, from woes and dread.
But no matter how hard you try you still hear the outside,
The screams of the people, and all of their cries,
And you wonder how long you’ll be left alive.
So, so you play into your mind that everything will be fine
And each day you grow older only to find
That your key to keep reality away has been rusted.
So you leave your door open all of the time
And imagination slowly slips behind
While knowledge slips into the front lines
And without any hesitation your in fifteen years
And you wonder what got you hear at all.