In our youth
we often dreamt
of a boundless future.
Diplomas,
folded under our arms
like tomorrow's newspaper.
A kid.
Maybe two.
Commanding our destinies
in this chessboard world.
But, not them.
For them the future
was a dull sizzle
at the bases of their brains.
They sat in lowlit bedrooms.
Weighed down by smoke.
Enrapt by video game vibrance.
And they still do.
3 comments:
I posted this from my phone while giving a final, which makes me awesome, but I don't know if the spacing is right. This is just a nod to some of my loser friends that, at 32,act like they're still 17.
I love the line "dull sizzle" and kudos for doing this from your phone, I would have at least spelt something wrong.
I know people of whom this poem is about and it is a subject that is sensitive to me as well. I'm perpetually stuck between settling into life and pushing for self growth.
You do something beautiful with the language in the last stanza even though the subject matter doesn't evoke this. I like the imagery here.
I also love the line "dull sizzle" and "at the bases of their brains. It's such a great description.
And, I also know a lot of people that could be defined by this poem.
The brevity of the final stanza/line and its matter-of-factness work well with the poem, resounding with such truth.
Cheers...
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