Must Be Getting Old

I think I must be getting past my prime
Cause I'm starting to realize
I always theorize
That I know more
Because I am of the generation before.
It seems like these kids today
Want to drift away,
They don't care
About anything but their hair,
Don't seem to worry
About the world's flurries
Of debate and hate
The fragile state
Of our communication,
Is lost upon them.
But is it up to me,
To simply flee?
Or better to stand
And listen
If I am around to teach
Could I make it better
With my outreach?
Is it too late
To change the hate
Argue the debate
And correct that fragile state?
I have nothing left
But to reach across
A gap of generations;
My effort to evicerate
A misunderstanding leading to a path of hate.