Comply with your bodies, you're not yet mature...
How I wish you would, how I wish you could!
If such a thing were possible,
Little angels would need not be demons.
Detest each other later; be children today.
Each time I walk back to the campus that housed me- the biggest misfit of all adolescents- I am filled with a tender nostalgia. I look down- literally- upon the students that occupy the classes and facilities I did two, three, and four years ago. They appear so young and sweet, and I marvel at it. I take cheer in their innocence- until their mouths open in response to a vibrating phone or in passing conversation with their friends. From their mouths issue forth all the vulgarities and obscenities known to man. They speak with authority on sex, drugs, and partying- and though they don't know much of them, I know, if they continue on the path they tread they shall.
As my good cheer and hope fades rapidly, the truth crashes upon me that they are following in the footsteps my peers have left.
And I am angered, but without help.
They're too young. Too young. I'd rather them suffer my mental anguish- premature as it was- than too fall slave so utterly to the world and lose their mental capacity and will to do good. I must admit that sorrow saps me of much good I might do, but at least I think of it! At least I formulate the good I might one day do for others in order to save them, if only a bit..
I just wish it weren't so. I long so wholly to walk over and see love and trust and innocence: what I was robbed of.