Wasted Youth

All dressed up to go, one last check in the mirror

I thought that I looked nice and neat.

I was half through the room, when I swapped out my shoes,

Cause the heels started hurting my feet.

Great dinner with friends, though we’re tired by the end

When the waitress came by with the bill,

I stood up to leave and, the pain in my knee

Told me, shit, I have crested the hill.

Youth has been wasted on red pimply faces,

Ungrateful with life so they whine.

Till one day that mirror reflects the years passing;

And they see they’ve been ravaged by time.

I’m watching the kids play, they’re all in their heyday,

The energy spent is a crime.

They’re running and jumping, my own heart is pumping

And telling me I’m past my prime.

Youth is just wasted on young lads and lasses,

They squander away precious time.

They sit on their asses with rose colored glasses,

And I wonder, what happened to mine?

As youths we would laugh at our old aunts and uncles,

 They’d sit tapping their toes ‘neath the table.

They’d watch us all dancing, to loud music playing

Reminiscing the days they were able.

Our feet seemed to fly as we’d spin and we’d glide;

We’d all drank and had eaten our fill

It never occurred to us, we’d soon be tapping

Our toes when we crested the hill.

The tick of a clock, is an audible mock

as we use up our time here on earth.

I’ve heard there’s a rumor, it’s God’s sense of humor

And how He will measure our worth..

Time is the stuff that a youth’s dreams are made of,

And time slips away when we’re old.

When you are over the hill, and your youth is all gone;

They’re the golden years, so I am told.