The Lost Generation

Where are we standing,
Broken homes,
Unsettled questions,
Seems like we have more time to ponder over the uncertain,
The future is not narrow but it’s made to be that way,
Still lingering in our past,

Childhood memories bring out the melancholy,
Pestering past,
Irritable preset,
Stigmatised futures,
Is this what we have become?

The last train home stands at the platform,
Smoke chugging, it’s there to take you somewhere where you are not forever alone,
In our teen spirit, we forgot what it meant to be alive,
Captivated by our madness, falling to pieces,
I wish you nothing but good fortune,
But I am scared for myself,

At my age, questions of faith arise too often,
Maybe I linger where I’m not supposed to,
Maybe this is my way to search for answers,
Revealing what I think so I can connect some dots,
My jigsaw remains unsolved,
But my words are not ceasing,
I might be out of breath but I know enough to not stop breathing,
Not right now,
It’s easy to give up I know,
But staying still won’t take me to places to where I wanna go,

The mantra for my generation,
Consumed by the subliminal altercations,
Help me while I help you,
It’s a collective effort,
There is no I or you,
It’s us,
We have to get through


About hackback

Everyday I'm shufflin.
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