Obvious Poem by Ross Maclennan

The Wisdom of youth is a dismal pursuit,
Tempered by temper and hardened by boot.
The tremulous tears of the difficult age,
The pendulum swinging from orgy to rage.
To try and refine from frustration and whim;
'Was that mean't for me' or gratefully, '..him'.
The backbone and metal to stand from the crowd,
or sink to oblivion, blameless but cowed.
Yet now that I'm thought to be able to cope,
I find the stage lonely and oft without hope.
Were the lessons they taught us, in truth, about life,
Or the rough edges smoothed once become man and wife?
Because right from the start we all know what they mean;
That the hardest to learn are the easiest seen.