Generations

Now that I see things with a great sense of recognition

I begin to sense a new departure, I am pained by premonition.

Since the unripe generation is no longer us

We fall into a pit of misunderstanding and disgust.

No longer children,

Not adults either,

Trying to still run

From something that has long begun.

Looked down by old-timers for still being too childish,

While the youngsters make fools out of themselves for being behind it.

Troubled by addictions

Never seen such evil depictions

As they paint them to be careless

It is us who they should caress

Wounded by restrictions

But fallen far into contradictions,

Not knowing who they truly are,

Only watching things helplessly from afar.

They stand at both gates

Laughing at their own fate.

Blame and lies, contradictions arise

Endless opportunity, yet no way to harvest

Equality slowly and quietly dies

Land of the free, a never-ending test!

On the brink of death

What can one do

We are taking our last breath

As the air fades into a yellow hue.

Burning a hole into the sky

Maybe we do deserve to fry

But are we really responsible

Or were we at the wrong place,

At the wrong time.

Nevertheless, action is necessary

So we don't end up in cemeteries.

Lakatos Áron   IX. H