Browsing through an old portable hard drive, I have discovered some old writing... including some of my terrible, hilarious, weird poetry. This one goes, I think, with the post about how the curmudgeons always claim these kids are the 'worst ever'... check that one out here. Apologies are probably in order, but here goes: There Will Always Be Rebels In the stillness of morning air 3 small branches dancing there The apple tree is old and staid But in its small twigs, breezes played. 'Settle down…