Young Hearts Old Souls Poem by Lucas Pate

Long days, grow cold,
Sleepless nights, grow old.
Sunrise, never duller
Sunset, lacks color
Big business, grows larger
People’s wallets, grow smaller
Promised everything, given nothing
Hopes high, spirits low
Every day, just going with the flow
One way road, headed for self-destruction.
The world, parent of all
Its children, will be its own downfall
Mutualism, now parasitism
Two steps forward, two steps back
Young hearts, old souls,
This young world dies old