Young voices sing a different tune,
Their rapid slang can often jar,
Beneath the bright or absent moon,
Across the distance, near or far.
New messages arrive so soon,
Reflecting what the people are.
They find their voice, perhaps by noon,
Escaping every stricture's bar,
A fresh expression, blooming soon,
Beyond the old, familiar car.
We learn anew, a joyful boon,
And glimpse the world without a scar.
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