It’s not just the representation

That there’s a problem with our generation.

We joke about things like masturbation

And like small children we’ve too much fascination

With the “cool” idea of procrastination.

 

And there’s something wrong with our nation

As far as social segregation

And the alienation, domination, and obliteration

Of today’s kids; veiling their education.

Where is our concentration

And high expectation?

I’ve made an observation

And I don’t like the demonstration

Of our lack of preparation.

 

There has been a contamination

That has become a celebration

And congratulation

When there should be perturbation.

The decoration

Of the dedication

To a child’s limitations

Is an indication

That true contemplation

Has become as rare as real infatuation,

Because we all go off of attractions,

Instead of worrying about the consequences of our actions.

So we work improvisation

As a resuscitation

To our damnation

And it’s a silent confirmation

That inspiration

No longer has the punctuation

For exploration

And now calls for elimination

Of civilization.

 

 

 

Everyone worries about their reputation

So they don’t think about their intonation,

Leading “the boss” to do a combination

Of reaction

And extraction,

Resulting in the rude one’s over-reaction

And the story gets retold as an exaggeration

And the listeners reply with abbreviation

And eavesdroppers make up their own fabrications.

Whispers     tickle ears as the story gets its own reiterations

And there are mouths, dry with exasperation.

This is why we’re all on medication.

We are hungry animals with too intelligent an imagination.

 

Soon they’ll try worldwide evacuation

With no consideration

Of the people’s agitation

And in retaliation

We could make a declaration

About the current abomination

And the need for restoration.

“Let my people go” shall be our exclamation,

Which may result in a larger altercation.

In addition

There with be no hesitation

In showing their dissatisfaction

But we’ll be a nice distraction

From the bigger operation

With our insubordination.

 

The cries, go on and try to hear them, for liberation

Have been lost in communication

And we point fingers in accusation

Too fast for recuperation

So we’ve got no toleration

For a little experimentation

But we’re fine with solicitation

In another person’s conversation

Without even the smallest invitation

Which makes for frustrations

And detonations

Of our hearts/as we hit devastation

Not even meditation

Can calm our trepidation

Caused by the separation

Of the population

Because of the lack of interaction.

 

Everyone seems to get satisfaction

From the tiniest vibration

In a person’s operation

When they’ve got some perspiration

And you can see their desperation

But there’s no contemplation

To help their situation.

No deliberations.

No mind expansions.

Though that would bring exhilaration

To my heart’s administration.

 

The world’s recreation

Needs a bit of sanitation

Because we think that ‘integration’

Is our final destination

When it’s just the registration

To help with the formation

Of greater appreciation

And that odd sensation

That you feel is a dramatization.

 

WAKE UP! It’s time for an examination.