Generation Lost Poems | Examples
These Generation Lost poems are examples of Lost poems about Generation. These are the best examples of Lost Generation poems written by international poets.
So sick of this world and generation
they tryna take ahold of my heart confiscation
the taste is bitter or tart
when it turns to ashes
cremation
I still got attachments i'm full of frustration
love seems to be my passion
eternally waitin
cant find as if its out of fashion, yet i still got patience
bout to have me ration and give up on this nation
everytime its me they blastin
stuck with these heart palpitations
i ain't see, she wore the mask in
My body desecratin
feel like a jew and she a nazi
way my life she began takin
my love grew thats when she popped me
took a bite, her heart was laced in
some ain't taste right and not long after steady hallucinatin
The Corrupt
Always chasing after money.
Tone of voice, overbearing.
Running from consequences.
With no discipline.
A rebellious youth.
For dishonest gains.
Given false testimony.
The corrupt.
Never give to the poor.
Take all for themselves.
Liars and cheaters.
Nothing with them is pure.
Don’t fall into temptation.
Disobedient, they are.
With sinful patterns.
A lost generation.
But alas; sometimes I think we've lost our way-
too many strayed opinions...one too many a survey.
Walking on the road ahead, just following the herd of sheep-
with a hypnotised mind, wide awake yet very fast asleep.
While yelling...join the team of the future progressiveness-
but if you don`t your old fashion, head full of mindlessness.
The enchanting light, a blinding fantasy world-
is a place where viewpoints, twisted and whirled.
The lights words spoken from an over opinionated mind-
but it is taken as the whole truth for one, and all of mankind.
Their flags are waved high, as they scream and chant=
to join with this new order of things, many just can`t.
It`s a path they want us to heavily tread-
but it`s a needle many, don`t want to thread.
With all our differences we live in a blended pot-
so to boil it too fast...we risk spoiling the lot.
The older generation think it's a movement like a hypnotising cult-
and their minds have been struck down by a thunderous lightning bolt.
The generation of now say "your way too old to understand, Mr Boomer"-
but the boomers say "your so out of touch, with no sense of humour.
What was once to be, what was
A life of dreams and hope's reality
Chaos turned uncontrollably wildly insane
A society of a broken world,A Lost World
A dying generation,a new begins
People out of control,no control
Killings everyday the news channel saids
If not by gun, phones become deadly
The people cry even if their own destruction
The hurt is felt even to the economy
As well as the soul,a lost world unfolds
A society who condemns God just their pleasure
Their needs be not yours but their own
That behind the gun they pull triggers
Who to blame, not the one swinging hatchet
But society,We The People our choice cries
As we point blame to a lost world dying out
We want to do crime but not pay the price
Kids kidnapped and raped,no parental control
Our choice be our own Let Freedom Ring
But without sacrifice what do we gain
If we become a lost world without perception
A Lost world with no future cause we fail to teach
My little fella
I held you softly against me
For only a few minutes
Staring into the horrified eyes of a nurse
Who saw death
Where I saw love in an ocean of bitter sadness
My little fella
I gave birth to you
Alone and terrified
Under the blinding darkness of a silver neon sign
Following a failed anaesthetic
Under the hurried footsteps of a panicked nurse
My little fella
I was able to give you a name
I was able to give you an official place
In this silent, frightened world
Where every time there's a blunder
Preventing a well-deserved place
My little fella
Free yourself from me
Fly away
To other joys
With a light heart
For a beautiful illuminated life
Fly away, my little fella
I'll always be there for you
And for all those who left too soon
Without hope of a happy tomorrow
Leaving waves of unfulfilled love
That return with each generation in the hope of happy days.
You know what our loneliness and emptiness really is? It's the disconnect from our own hearts.
Which is why even in a world that is connected everywhere with what's known as the "Internet", We have truly never felt more disconnected before.
Jesus did say that "Man cannot live off bread alone", This truth couldn't be more accurate or relative I feel as it is for our generation today.
Just look around you! Look around us everyone!
Open up those beautiful hearts again!
Then you'll finally see,
What our good friend named Jesus, really means to me.
ANCESTORS OF LOVE
Hello great men and women
How is your paradise
Its a long time after your demise
But thankyou for in you we learn
Sorry for interrupting your normal rites
But its just a request of my so called rights
East west i gat you home
May my favour come
Was i cursed from my previous pages
But dont count them cant you see my todays page?
Please gone is my age
And worst is my daily wages
Can i have a chance to get the best lover
Because all times i try they says its over
Have my sins to cover
And backward look never
Im tired of trying all ways
Im tired of losing all days
I feel im not based in the field
But still you need generation at the end
Why cant you let me in the world
Where i will get my best suiter in word
And believe in my situation forever
Because i need you blessings ever
Listen to my last stanza
Grant me the knowledge of a dancer
Get me the best love world
And i shall praise you with my word.
@dafina
Verse 1
If you’re going to San Francisco
be sure to let the junkies puke in your hair
If you’re going to San Francisco
you’re gonna meet some homeless people there
Verse 2
For those who come to San Francisco
you’ll see a violent carjackin’ there
In the streets of San Francisco
you’ll see liberal criminals everywhere
Bridge
All across the nation such a strange violation
people in commotion
There’s a whole generation with a new indoctrination
people in commotion, people in commotion
Verse 3
For those who come to San Francisco
be sure to fear some perp pullin’ your hair
If you come to San Francisco
there will be a smash and grab there
Outro
If you come to San Francisco
you might wanna say a prayer
Written: June 2024
This is my version of Scott McKenzie’s
classic song. A once great city destroyed
by lunatic woke liberal progressivism.
I saw the the unshelled seedpod of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the peanut.
Does the peanut make you shiver?
does it?
I saw the the lemon edulcorate of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the sugar.
Does the sugar make you shiver?
does it?
When I think of the sweetness, I see delicate words.
Now old is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the sweetness is unhealthy.
A lamb, however hard it tries,
Will always be zany.
A lamb is cockamamy. a lamb is buffoonish,
a lamb is unreasonable, however.
An apiculture, however hard it tries,
Will always be american.
Does the apiculture make you shiver?
does it?
The lost class
I was watching a program called “Vera” when I recalling
I once I lived in the northwest of England.
What I remember best was the greyness of the place.
A council estate for the poor and working-class
Which often is the same.
Young skulking men with nothing to do their eyes told
me they had given up this was their life.
Young girls dress for dance hoping to get married
For love and a sittee and on the list for housing, but to do this
They had to be pregnant with one of the young men
in the street.
There are no flowers here and, a few gardens are a dumping place
for prams and broken toys.
They were not educated the system responsible does not care
To give the young a proper education, they are cannon fodder anyway.
A generation dumped before they were born.
Education for all should be free, mandatory a duty
Only then will roses grow and beauty not vandalized by those
Who has lost respect, and for those whose meaning of life meant nothing?
A wilt flower,
The lost fragrance,
It will never recover,
For eternal, being left aside.
In its prime,
The fragrance is much sweet,
Enough to tempt bees,
A generation was born.
Oneness and self-deluded,
Being admired but left-deserted,
Thorns that sting and wound,
A generation is lost and downed.
edited: 26/11/2020
Like a scouting ranger
The cowboy's flower will
Be my secret messenger
To show how much
I cared and do still
I never told you how bad it was
How much I missed you
How I drowned it
How I almost came through
Like you wanted me to
Sluice gates shut and
I blocked my flow
Vault doors closed to
Hide the treasure
Vanity stopped the show
Because of family illness
I blow the dam, I explode the cache
Out everything pours
Gold coins glimmer on the floor
Untamed flood of feeling, reeling
My mother will not disappear!
Like I have for her!
Like I made you do!
I will take it all
And I will feel it too!
There you are in the
Precious pile, the frothing jetsam
Like losing my mom's mind
It was this bad only one time
When I was losing you
After a generation
When my hair is grey
Instead of sandstone
And I am crinkly not handsome
When it is far too late
I'll do it on your birthday
And our anniversary
For how special you were to me
A picture to hold the place
Of my old face
I hope you know that it
Has meant tragedy arose
Now it's in friendship's style
You'll never see my profile
But I'll post that yellow rose
lost interest
ignorance is popular
yet difficult in
our observation
it has become
a way of life
our generation culture
what matters sim
not important
because the world
needs to grow
yet our growth
devalue more than
it values
who is deceiving
who today in our
smart technology world
are we about to hit
another downfall
of no reparation
what will finally be
our reputation
to the next generation
will be a world
robot value
verses the human devaluation
sometimes I think
by myself
seeing the world
in our modern time
I just can't understand
why the rush
despite I know
is all about control
especially when power
is more important than
humanity then Instead
of trust or royalty to
selfish interest I just
lost interest
Married to introspection,
we left for Paris
And with fools and dilettantes,
got carried away
Living on melancholy,
our quarter was poor
The Seine’s romance but fiction
—our fantasies played
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
We are the Lost Generation
The forsaken and forgotten ones
Splintered between the Age of Empires:
TV and iPhones
Wedged into slices of sullen Americana
Abruptly, we are scattered in solemn silence
My dreaded Intention flees from vexing self-destruction
Thus, I am stranded...simply waiting--
To die; 'to sleep, perchance to dream'
We are an idea of silent ambition
Withered kinetic energy, floating away--
We are the Lost Generation...