No Title, I Just Wrote What I Felt
I’m sick of needing to choose
Between grass stains and sunburns
All the kids these days think
It’s cool to drink alcohol and sit
In the back seat of limousines.
My dad always told me when
He was young he played with sticks
And rocks and partied hard,
Drove to Tijuana on the weekends
Back when the world was a safer
Place, a blanketed bed soaked
In warmth, but still cold when that
Was needed. I wish we still owned
Box TVs and hot wheel cars
Not these joke cell phones and
Drugs from off the street.
I guess I’m tired of watching all my
Friends turn purple or green
And laying on the bedroom floor
Of some fool they’ve never even seen
I wish kids these days appreciated
Paper and still climbed trees,
Let the sun tell them when
Bedtime was so they could count
Every sheep, sleep
Right through their alarm clocks
And into the daytime.
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