The boys, with their baseball cards all scattered across messy bedroom floors,

and brains filled with useless statistics.

Boys with their messy curls and secret worlds,

and so much energy that they can hardly sit still.

They are so innocent for a moment in time,

before they actually open up their eyes to the society

that they have been shoved into;

and their ears to older brothers who they wish to listen to.

The baseball cards are put away

and replaced with Playboy magazines.

Their curls are styled with gel of some kind

and their innocence slowly slips away.

Their secret worlds turn into sleazy girls

who excite them more than any made-up game.

The apple juice that once spilled on the kitchen floor

is replaced with beer and vodka.

They don’t seek kisses from their mothers anymore

instead from the stumbling girl at the party on Saturday.

The boys were once so innocent

and so full of good intent but now that has all gone away.

Their pockets are filled with flasks and condoms,

instead of bubblegum and marbles.

But can we really blame the boys?

Their older brothers and distinct uncles were once boys,

but they too were victims.

Victims to the cruel world we throw them into.

I pity the boys for they had no choice;

their innocence was taken ever so quickly.