Why do vandals have to smash
Everything in sight?
And why do they do drugs and drink
Then go looking for a fight?
I suppose they think they're really tough
But I'm sure they're aware most passers-by
Are unlikely to make a fuss.
When they're in their marauding gangs
They think they rule the World,
Lording it over everyone
With baseball bats fast-twirled.
They kick our garden gate and throw
Beer bottles over our wall,
Then trash our car with an iron bar
Before attacking the shopping mall.
They shriek and whoop with wild delight
While racing a stolen car,
Then set it alight before running away
Like the cowards they really are.
For when you see one all alone
He'll swiftly pass you by,
With head down and hoodie over
In case you catch his eye.
His power, it seems, has deserted him
With the mass testosterone.
His voice is almost a whisper now
As he answers his mobile phone.
His sunken eyes have a vacant look
As there's nothing much within,
For the little intelligence he once had
Has been lost to cocaine and gin.
He'd be shocked to see himself
The way others do,
As the scourge of society
Respected by so few.
And what will happen when he has
Children of his own?
Will they be raised to mutilate
This land on which they've grown?
So heed this tale as a warning if
Like him, you're so weak and afraid
That you have to hide behind a brutish mob
For your life will soon degrade.