I Must Be Asleep
I must have fallen asleep
somewhere in the fifties, sixties, and seventies as well.
My father fought the War to end all wars
it didn't and he rarely spoke of it again.
Joe went off to the Korean War,
never did come home, and I missed his young heart.
We were high school sweethearts
proud of country, in love, willing to give all,spurred by our parents sacrifice,
he did.
George and I were a little smarter, so we thought,
in later years we questioned everything;
still, he went off with the Vietnam draft reluctantly.
He came home quietly, out of uniform, ashamed and unassuming
with fingers pointing from every direction for what seemed an eternity.
We skipped Woodstock, sang and danced with Seeger,
wondering where all the flowers had gone;
and Peter, Paul and Mary, and others I don't recall
and marched with King and the Kennedys religiously until Camelot was gone.
History says it was a dream, an unreality,
we were a generation of drugs, sex and rock and roll,
but look at all we changed.
Strange,
I don't remember it that way
it seemed to being getting so much better,
what happened during the in between,
am I awake and still in the dream
waiting for the changes to take hold again?
I must still be asleep.
Generation X or Y or Q
, now it's up to you.
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