When I was young
I tried to learn life's lessons while I played
Gave tongue to simple questions
And listened hard to answers
With all the respect that could be paid
Hung on parent's sage advice
And even when repeated
Earnestly I listened twice
Now aged two score and more
I understand the reason
For all the messes that I made:
I learned almost nothing in that season
'cept how to sulk
And how to piss off friends in bulk
And though I am a child of fools
I merited
The harvest of my un-society
Of all the living tools that I inherited
The only social ones
With which
I regularly played
Were a pair of tweezers
And a hand grenade
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