Lost in your home

I watched them,
A group of lost generation,
No sense of direction,
Following a pseudo leader,
Lost in their own home.
A native who has no connection to his past.
Moved from the country,
Moved from the last bit of roots to his sense of self,
Wandering the streets,
Lost in a crowd of black wearing misfits,
Trying to embrace a culture so difderent from what your grandfathers knew,
A generation stolen,
Now we watch the grandkids,
Walking with glassy looks in their eyes,
Unsure of what to do
Unsure of what’s to come.
Rich sense of community,
Rich sense of culture,
All taken.
I watched them smoke,
A youth too wasted for their age,
Pushed away,
How could this be.
How could a man be lost in his jome when he should be showing you around?
They drink,
Waste away,
A doing of a horrific shift that should have spared.
I can’t pity them,
I”m angry for them,
Someone ought to fight for them.
I watched their hunched shoulders.
Lost boys,
Lost girls,
No attachment to the past.
What a shame.
I want to look away.
Its not fair.


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