Much to young to vote, they could make a better choice,

Not yet ready to drive although they may be the better one.

Not yet of age to drink but then who really is the right age,

When you’re thirteen they call you a teenager, you’ve only aged.

No one likes thirty, fifty, or sixty five, at least you’re still alive,

Listen to the child as they are disregarded in their playful world.

They have much to say if you don’t shut them up and put them to bed,

Ideas come from their minds as words are spoken from lips not heard.

Until they are scarred and brain washed, full of hate and regret,

Until they are older they are not listened to, a child with a thought.

Listen to the child, pure thoughts of wisdom before they grow up,

Listen to the child, there’s more to lose than you know.

Keith Garrett