Winter passes with little consequence,
ourselves barricaded in these four walls;
heat folded in, embraced from daylight’s woes,
an entire generation is numb.

The universities are flooded, rinsed,
it’s a uniformal fashion parade;
homogenous clones, vacant discussions,
future fears, present greed, our apathy.

These are the faces of tomorrow’s world,
they are clothed in dime-a-dozen sweatshirts;
“choose your pigeon-hole, circle your answer,
tick appropriate box, sign and print name.”

The bars are overloaded, fluorescent
with lack of change, cheap *****, social decay;
stories are ornaments now, not lived in,
but tried on for size, disposable quest.

Memories born in pixels, never felt,
the out-of-focus lens of our daydreams
is no match for high-definition;
screens play out all eventualities.

The youth on borrowed time, defaulted loans
of goodwill. We drink only to stand our ground;
we will toast our tomorrows, welcome them
with cynical tongues and steeled spirits.