What matter of citizenry do I dare see,
On weekends where youth aim to plot and scheme
Tales contrived of sheer mendacity,
Are their bar-hopping lives merely dreams?

The towering demon at the gated doorstep,
What if I am the nightmare when lights escape?
The enemy rendering moot matters of prep,
With eyes of fiery focus, crown to nape.

But why do I count their ill-possessed bounty,
Individuals, duos and busloads by the dozen?
Why study all forms of city, parish and county
And not act as Taverners or Woodsmen?

No choice is clearer for each fake I take.
Hundred minors caught for chocolate cake!