I am more angry than I have ever been. Seething. Burning. I am undervalued. Undersold. Powerless and voiceless in a world that would forget my life and experiences and relationships as if they were a blip on nobody’s radar, were I to disappear today. It’s not that no one cares. Many, many people care. I am not alone. Far from it. I am loved by so many people. I know this. I value this. It is the many who treat this world as a playground, the many who treat this world as a plaything, to be used and thrown away. Opportunities are scant, pay is a pittance, the climate in decline, the true Great War on the horizon… How are we to not be disillusioned? How are we to not be angry? Lacking purpose and guidance my generation trudges on through the slowly hardening concrete poured by generations before, hardening and slowing our progress, turning the Earth into a desolate wasteland we alone will survive to navigate. With no guidance, we must find our own way. We must save ourselves and our world. No one else will. And I am angry.
Eaten Away
there is beauty in this slow decay
extant expression
deterioration
hazel eyes, so much light
a facade, hidden from sight
a mind gone bad
past its due date
just a tad
Poems by Sam 