A poem I came up with for my Friday contribution of Creating Charlie
twenty year old toddlers
wants something but knows nothing
melody of materialism
whoosh in brightly bubbled sulks
taste like sour grapes
in an uneven relationship
that started out the same.
Two people on the same stage
lines at the end of an ancestral page.
Where the siren of happy hour
as cheap as the Kmart shirt
that gets her minimum wage
screams across a divided city
to the classy bar with vintage wine
and the black coat in the hipster pose
to the suit that can’t see beyond his nose
judges the world in silver and gold
the curse of humanity, the story less told.