He looks at the sunset pink and yellow
He’s a teenager, not yet quite a fellow
He feels the pangs, the desires of youth
He has not yet seen the blemishes of truth
He sees things as they appear
His future to him seems a fear
He does not know what field to choose
He is a little confused
He looks at the trees passing by
And slowly he sighs
The pressure to find his niche, his nook
The pressure to read too many books
The road to love beckons
Too early for that he reckons
Too many attractions
Too many distractions
The desire to prove himself a worthy son
The enticement of fun
And suddenly out comes a full moon
With its loveliness makes him swoon
Whatever will be will be
To himself says he
Right now I will devour the moon with my eyes
And think tomorrow of reaching the skies