Is this but the curse
Of a generation why?
Nee of infinite opportunity;
Self-sentenced to search.
Limited by our own expectations,
Our own self-entitlement.
Not to be quenched by
Simple pleasures of generations past.
Amid the unpromising Unknown
Glasses focused on an uncertainty, instability.
In the technological era full-blown,
A kaleidoscope projects endless possibility.
Through which we star-gaze deeply,
Intent to claim our individuality.
Perhaps the table is only booked for twenty?
Ahoy! Verdant green stratosphere in its entirety.
Replete with all the elements
Known to alleged Existence.
Awash with flecks and fragments,
Insisting we strive for excellence.
To seize and to snare,
To wield with gusto;
To harness, to tame,
To embody bare brio;
To adapt and
To build and hone
Express your desires,
Make them last;
To mould your niche,
Connect to the masses-
Go seek your fortune.
Surely your cerebral clockwork ticks,
Injected with a dosage of possibility,
A fine slice of sour tangibility
Served on fine china of fragility.
Let it simmer a little while,
Let it steep.
Do your desires take root?
How long is your piece of thread?
Has your vision gone viral?
Or the virus paralyses infrared?
Bed-ridden by the overwhelming,
Frozen in the infinity of it all.
Only to fall short of the
Projected trajectory and nothing more.