Before you count to five

Before count to five(before twenty)

The eternal teenager.

Haircuts and gossip the who's who changing with the hormones

At sixteen self involved, hair-dye experiments and pop music

The movement of youth it's bleeding through the hospital of time

Flashing brilliant, transforming and exploding into neon colors

The who did what and when comes to light school like a razor

Turbulent emotional flabbergast

We shut our mouths when we should speak

Class clowns ridiculing from backseats

Lust new and undiluted lines the veins of the brain

Eyes are distracted and life and love await like long lost family

Lunchtime corners where shyness breathes on some

Middle hall power-points fizzle and spark energy in their skin

Sports field changing-rooms admit dropping sweat and mud-stains

Part of the cycle exposes itself shamelessly to the world

exaggerated stories of loss and victory, remorse and repugnant taunting

Even the odd secret between wooden benches

Showers clean none of that necessary dirt

None of that untapped necessary living to screw up

Pride finds itself in holes in each young heart

Where it grows and takes hold

or runs around not knowing where to sustain itself

For each balanced kid there's always one that's twisted

Bent out of shape by disillusion, pressure

and the changing chemistry in a live body new to the world

Yet even the distinct foul taste of confusion could sweeten over the years

The flavor of loss or depression changing to please the souls taste-buds

In the lukewarm soup of memory.

Dance club lights flirt with teen auras

the confusion makes sense

Hot stories of when first timer lips met repeat

Enthusiasm is cradled like a new born

Chatter and laughter match the cricket's summer night racket

Social network threads flood the world

Frivolous impulsive thought a deluge

Conforming to the illusion of individuality

Yes that great beast flexing shopping mall biceps

The greedy and ever-consuming “Illusion of individuality”

Clinging to puberty and a void above the sign “identity”

Thought and opinion manipulators inject the clouds above the young

Minds are made like pancakes before you can count to five