Youthful Appraisals

[J Hillenburg]

Youthful Appraisals


We were dominated by struggles of our own making,

we were sure of nothing but grievous, impending doom.

We played down the danger in the chances we were taking,

we wallowed in indulgent misery and self-imposed gloom.

An assortment of wayward children victimized by excess,

self-will run riot, a gaggle of fools strutting upon a dim stage.

We went through countless tribulations hoping to impress

some sense of purpose among those consumed with rage.


Malcontents caught in the sway of an era, we sought to strive

for some archetypal atmosphere of promise captured on a screen.

We sought to corrupt ourselves beyond our years and blatantly deprive

our lives of any clarity, to obscure what existence truly means.

I raise my hand to this disconnected image of a misguided youth,

I rectify the costs incurred for such sordid, destructive delights.

We were confused by a world of trivia that disguised itself as truth,

failed by our elders to a degree, misled by sparkling, inviting lights.


Blessed by the confidence of my journey, I speak with a reverent voice

that acknowledges the depth involved in our associations of the heart.

I have shed my defiance, and now deliberate amongst a variety of choices

that will define my future, give shape to today, and insure my art.

We were scholars of dissatisfaction and we relentlessly stalked after

some ideal of life glittering clear, some song that would preserve the soul.

But now I hear little more than the song of experienced, contented laughter,

speechless at attitudes once held that were believed to be so bold.