Pretense!

Stoop too low for fame of famine, You have called everyone but few, Fiddling with courtesy of kindness, The vapor of integrity gone with magicians, The old slabs are weathered, The young hunks are tendered, The aged can't be tendered, Whatever cats and dogs they play with, Whatever clouds they pretend to follow, The matured idea of the elders, May not be that of a young and naïve, Let us see how long they play with dolls, To prove their ignorance of themselves, And the innocence of the followers, not to exist as good and bad as oneself, to face the world bold and courageous.