The Future Belong To The Young Poem by Francis Duggan

Frail old blokes may boast of their conquests and songs of war heroes are sung
But the future is really what matters and the future belong to the young,
Some men they grow old though not wiser and no fool like an old fool they say
Why bore me with stories of your past glories we'll drink to the men of today.

Frail old ladies may talk of their young years and use hair dyes to cover their gray
In their twenties when young and attractive young men to meet them went out of their way
On their lounge room wall framed photos of them in their young years for their friends to gaze on are hung
Cosmetics no substitute for natural beauty the future belongs to the young.

You almost bore me to tears with your stories about your marvellous grandson
The hero of the great Grand Final without him the game would not have been won
His two snap goals in the dying minutes decisive when the game in the balance hung
And though he may be the man of the moment the future belong to the young.

I too am a silly old bugger and I too am tied to the past
And the days and weeks seem to go quickly and time ever ticking so fast
Perhaps I have said too much already and I ought to give a rest to my tongue
And I'll finish by once more repeating that the future belong to the young.