Two More of the Same

I’ve seen society fall apart.

The girl’s lipstick too red,

too much like blood.

The boys too dumb,

‘cause they gotta have fun.

 

It’s funny ‘cause they don’t care so much,

and for all they act and dare,

they ain’t got much to loose,

no future or ego to bruise.

So of course they can’t refuse.

 

The girls stand in mindless blobs--

Society’s newest fashion mobs--

and they criticize with glass eyes

The genuinity of success.

But are still jealous enough to wonder why.

 

It’s funny ‘cause they do care,

and for all they pretend,

they still think they can loose more,

believe there’s a future hiding, but

an unconscious contract to have given up.

 

The boys parade loudly with bravado,

cussing out the world,

believing it’s the culprit who evicted their minds.

They want to share a word, but they never learned any

so they drown in silence and wonder why.

 

It’s funny ‘cause they do care,

and for all their masked indulgence

they insist on gaining something to loose.

But they’re too afraid,

so of course it’s an agreed crime to try.

 

The girl with the manicured nails,

the boy with the slouch in his stride,

don’t want to know there’s more, then they’d have to try,

won’t see two feet ahead of disillusioned reality.

They hold hands.

...Their future is only too clear...

A road that ends with two more of the same.

 

 

Veronica Russell

This poem is about: 
My community

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