I wrote a poem recently about my town. Here it is:
Same car drives by, colored teal.
A 2005 Honda it’s windows down.
The same block that it always goes round,
Is filled with kids, doing the same things
Playing sports and chasing rings.
Rings they’ll never get, fame they won’t achieve,
And if I’m being honest this town makes me grieve.
Grieve for the loss of the dreamers and the believers, the loss of the lovers and achievers.
This is an endless suburbia, no life no feelings.
Concrete and neutral colored wood smear the landscape with drab textures.
Old minds are giving new ones lectures.
Telling us to get in line, to do our time, to feel fine. You’ll get a job, get married, and have disciples.
You’ll start again the cycle.
There is no time here, only night and day. Seasons change, but the people don’t.
Ages change but the feelings don’t.