On the shoulders of giants
You have stood,
And seen the long road,
The clearing at the end,
A future yet to behold.
Now that you are gone,
Your days passed,
Who will step forward,
And what will those who look
See with their new eyes.
What voice will they speak with?
Your struggle was born in strife,
In adverse times,
And you chose to fight back
With the openness of your mind
And the strength of your heart
;
What passions will move us
In these bland days,
To fight the deadly apathy
Of a sullen generation,
And rile them into action?
What will be their message?
In all their willful dischord
And clichéd tirades,
I have not heard their voices,
But rather the parroting litany
Of dissenting, subtle suggestion.
Who among them will awaken,
And see clearly
The misuse of their youth,
The hand that misleads them
To a numb, fearful future?
Who will stand for them?
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