adolescents
prepubescents
hormones humming, hormones coming

Look at them, so beautiful
with a lazy grace defying
everything--
industry, education, childhood--
none is acceptable to these
self-proclaimed outcasts;
left out, rejected, orphaned
with parents to spare
but with no spare time,
they don't dance and
their rhythm is all blues;
anger is their theme--
melody, harmony, descant--
it is all discord and fury
pent up and always overflowing.
they are too old to kiss away their hurts;
too young to expect acceptance.
look at them, so beautiful...
be grateful to be not them.

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who are you talking about?
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um, check the title
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"be grateful to be not them ...." this last line threw me but can totally understand. don't think i wanna be part of the younger generation. it's rough out there ... different pressure ... Drm
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i agree, the last line was kind of not in the flow, what happened there? any chance you could re-write that last line with a little more thought? otherwise the poem kept me reading until the end.
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you're right, the last line really doesn't work at all. i'm working on a fix for it. thanks for the helpful imput.
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input, rather. :)