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Poem

Quietly they sat,
A bunch of souls
with different levels of commitment.
Some worn out from the everyday hustle
that life involves,
Others tired of the so called bureaucratic rules
that are placed onto them.
This is, after all the challenges of living,
The challenges of being offspring to those before them,
The evolution of going from crying on top
to becoming self-sufficient,
Independent to being cared for,
You have to just love the cycle
and its consistency.

As we age,
There goes another page of experience that may
or may not be passed on or watered.
There they are,
There they sit clueless without any concept of time
and its importance.
Ignorance is at the forefront like the open / closed sign in the store’s front.
Materialistic desires become the engine to drive forward,
while what matters most
such as the reasons for sitting idle become junk.
Are we failing,
or wailing along desperately trying to keep their heads above water?

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