Lament For Lost Youth Poem by Not Long Left

Carpeted with yearned for youthful memories
These streets lead to many a lost dream.

Here we frolicked beside cracked conker shells
Spread generously beneath the rustling canopy
The half open shells teasing us
Into frenzied competitive scavenging.

Under a flickering lampposts light
Alleyways laced with the rotting aroma of
Fallen autumn leaves conjure vivid screens
Of hopeful, hazy, moon soaked nights.
Here we gather, a global gathering of lonely teens,
Matchstick racing down a trolley littered, black tar stream.
Unaware of the symbolic simplicity
-Drifting sticks lost to the will of the flow.

Here we wait, young lungs expelling the smoke of stolen
Cigarettes, the riot of youth the slow killer of a future age.
Such days now but blessed testaments of
Eradicated youth, the once rejection of landlords
Resurfacing in the words of tired lovers.

The rebellion against time, voiced with
Dope and red wine, all but a distanced mystery.
A legacy of fragmented memory
Diluted and polluted by the struggles and
Pessimistic battles of morns hangover of adulthood.