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Michelle Hayes Poem
I am from a generation they call X
Not because it marks the spot
But because it marks the best
We are eccentric because we walked the moon
And because we shared lust as an essential need
But wait until you meet your resurfaced acknowledgement
A frantic existence you call Technology
Generation X from 1965 to 1980
Where Charles Manson, the flower childe
Meets the notorious Ted Bundy
Richard Nixon and watergate, who actually knew
That this was an era of being a shrew
The birth of individuality
Known for practicalities
Known for informalities
The ghosts of the Vietnam War
Known for diversities
The civil technicalities
Henceforth, a generation of creation is no more.
Copyright © Michelle Hayes | Year Posted 2024
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Details |
Michelle Hayes Poem
Tiny and fearless, a lifeless black stray
Last bought with death arose
Strength came into the day
She held firm, but death was close
Given no nourishment or love
By the one who gave her life
Sensed that death was nearly enough
Gave her the strength to fight
I found her, as she was wilting away
Grabber her, held her to my breast
She felt my warmth, the rhythm of my chest
I asked the gods to save my Queen, chanting a sarinae...
I will forever love you, Inanna, to my very last day.
Copyright © Michelle Hayes | Year Posted 2024
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