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As youth, we would suckle sweet nectar from the tree of life,
Fearless youth with relentless energy and powerful radiance, free of strife,
Free minds scribbling stories of far off places with mythical wildlife.
Now taught to think in structure,
Our minds are confined,
Our youth has run out of time,
Being different, breaking free from the chains,
Winds us up on on a laptop again,
Yearning to empathize and revitalize,
But our minds are confined.
The nectar of innocent youth has run dry,
And our youth is no longer spry.