Ode to the Strength of Youth

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To the young, whose voices rise anew,
Who dream the dreams that build, renew,
The power of tomorrow’s grace
Is written bold upon their face.
In hearts still fresh, in minds unbound,
The seeds of change are fertile ground.

Too often cast as yet unmade,
Dismissed as drifting, led astray—
Yet in their hands, the future’s clay
Is molded firm, by night and day.
For they, more than the rest, must fight
To claim a world of hope and light.

Not mere heirs to what has been,
But makers strong, in flesh and skin.
They see beyond what some ignore,
A world where peace might be restored.
Their voices swell, a rising tide,
A force of truth none can divide.

They’ve watched the past, they know its weight,
But will not carry endless hate.
With open eyes, they see the need
For kindness sown like common seed.
They shape with love, with courage rare,
A future built on hearts that care.

For though they’re young, they’re wise and true,
With strength that’s neither old nor new—
A flame that’s bright and fiercely pure,
Their dreams, our guide, our hope, our cure.
With every step they take, we find
A world less cruel, a world more kind.

So here’s to youth, both bold and strong,
Who sing the future’s soaring song.
In hands not yet by age confined,
They wield the tools to heal and bind.
For all they touch, and all they mend,
Will shape a world yet to be defined,

But rise to cherish, safe and free,
A place of peace, for all to be.
Let none forget their sacred place,
The bright resolve upon their face—
For they, of all, can turn the tide,
Open hearts, brave hopes, fear no place to hide.

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