Pisces, unoriginal--
you modern, model youth.
With your phone and late-night glow
you show such little couth.
Driver, now suspended--
who will lead them to the end
searching crowded taprooms
til Last Call for making friends?
Son, not so prodigal--
your dad's laugh sounds the same.
You sold his birthday shotgun.
All that's left now is his name.
Are you wearing ruby slippers?
'Cause you might get blown away.
New York's the same as Kansas:
Nothing gold can stay.
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