The Poisoned Youth



There isn’t much to say
I was the plague on your sunlit sill
Pulling on the lace
Like the wind, the ocean’s malady
What fields of youth do you walk?
What childhood forests do you come by?
I poisoned the wells
With the ports and the wines
I tainted the springs
With the rums and the ales
The wild peach blossoms
All through the spring
They fruit in the autumn
And it falls to the ground
What fields of youth do you walk?
What age of man do you hope to see?
I poisoned the honeycomb
With the voice of the song
I tainted the honey
With the kick of the dance
There isn’t much to say
I am the plague on the young’s feast
Turning the bread into crumbs
Like the wind, the poor boys orchestra
What fields of youth do you remember?
What childhood forests have you kindled alight?
Let's stand and build this city of age 
This age of recollection

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