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Sonnet 1

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It’s honorable to think of our future

Generations’ welfare; forefront lobotomy

We need, let loose the fissure their

Existence pressing down, it crushes me.


Welfare for Grandfathered finger painters.

Green-Peacers greedy for tomorrow

Saving the whales for slaughter later

Stop.  It’s that which can’t be borrowed


Time.  But what about our tears

Falling fast this very moment, ill,

Still waiting for self-same forbearers,

Father’s promises, and even prophets who

Regret some decisions forever.

So what, I say it’s only my forever.

Comments (2)

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

I enjoyed this poem immensely. It speaks to a lost but current generation sacrificed Issac-style on the altar of "future generations" by the forebears. Its a sentiment that we don't hear in the dirty political discourse of nations.

Joshua Hennen
This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

I second that! I enjoyed it a lot! thanks

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