Death of the Golden Age

Blank faces droning on while senseless words 
reverberate through the waves.....
Education is dead. DEAD I say.
But still they flock like blackened crows
to a pile of rotten flesh.
The minds today are like rusted gears
flaking at every turn.
No Room for Pointless study.
Reality exists within a plasma filled box 
hanging on the water-stained wall.
Literature is just a remnant of a
lost generation.
A vestige. 
An appendix, 
an organ now useless and ignored.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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