TEENAGERS
April 17, 2007
© Fred Dumpling. Redistribution is prohibited.
Down, down,
You're headed down a narrow path lit only
Sparsely by the light from those windows at the
Top of the building, curtained, so that they might
Obscure our innocence from corrupted eyes that
Play with fire, as we never should, though it burns
Inside our hearts and hormones
And its smoke tastes all right.