Being 25

It must be nice, being twenty-five years young,
Being able to breathe, without an iron lung,
Having all the answers, to all the questions,
Free to give generously, your knowledgeable suggestions
Being so mighty, all is either black or white,
It is great to be, such a powerful knight,
Fixing the world, helping the poor,
Raising the dead, or just being grandeur,
Soon enough, even sooner, the world will become grey
All your dreams and ideals will slowly fade away,
Live your life, in your ivory tower of righteous and just
Stir the pot; fill it with hate, disgust, and distrust
When the reality will hit, then the guilt and the distress,
Too late to repent, too late to regress
xox
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