The Young

We are young.
Potential sleeps inside our skins
and we struggle to awaken it.
    
Of us, great things are expected:
environmental exponent,
economic elixir,
yet still, we are young.
    
Fate fights fancy.
Tossed about in a sea of circumstance,
we shift with the winds of dream and desire.
Maturity is reluctant
and indecision envelops us in its resistance,
blanketing with soft lullabies,
singing the ease of childhood,
effortless existence.
     
Who we are affects the world
as wind over water.
Ripples carry our essence
across vast time and distance.
     
We are the hope of a nation,
The future of a generation,
but we are still young.