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Description
it's a mixed up grab-bag
of fantasy and decay,
we seek to then try and forget.
the youths we teach, and beg,
to please, just for once, grow
up, be a man and wear your
father's shoes. glory be all
yours now, you can be tomorrow's
future today and we will gawk
and admire in awe, because you
are the something we never could
be, but

the sadness will envelop, there
was nothing left in the attainment and
the giddy picture play scene of
children hiding in the bushes,
pretending the lavender monster
from the warehouse of spooky beings
will eat them up with tendrils made of
liquid ivory will leave them standing there

contemplating in defeated breaths
why they ever thought the lives of
worries about tomorrow and remaining
on the top for all to see and gawk and
admire in quiet loathing was better
than running away from such a

fiendish beast, the lavender monster.