Poem of the Week: Anti-Generation Labeling Poem

Anti-Generation Labeling Poem
October 14, 2016

“Generations” are a joke
That I wish would go up in smoke—
Just shadows and shade
Artificially made
By scheming marketing blokes

For the purpose of selling their stuff
‘Cause age groups clearly just weren’t enough
To whom to hawk their wares
So they can earn their shares.
Now they’ve group names to make things less tough—

Names like the “Silent Generation,”
Saviors from communist invasion,
Then the “Baby Boomers,”
Those population bloomers
Whose births caused such a sensation

That conceived the notion for the name
And started this whole foolish game.
After them, who came next
But “Generation X,”
A title so “x-treme,” it’s plain—

So lame that it proved how much this trend
Was already getting, friends.
Then nineteen years away
From “Y2K,”
The “Millennials” came ‘round the bend.

’97 on…who the hell knows
Just what name the marketing schmoes
Will slap on those poor kids
Or what’s stacked on their skids
To sell them? ‘Cause that’s just how things go,

And not just economically,
But sadly also socially,
And with each generation
Living in this damned nation,
Crap gets worse, as one can plainly see,

For when young adulthood comes around
To such a group, society frowns
Down on them for their flaws
And considers no pause
In running them into the ground,

Accusing them of nothing less
Than absolute selfishness,
Prone to narcissism
And materialism,
Putting their patience to the test

Further with claims that they don’t care
‘Bout how anyone else but them fares
At work, home, or school,
The rude, snarky fools,
Putting in no effort anywhere!

Apparently, it’s all ‘bout their toys,
Those self-absorbed girls and boys,
Who’ve been handed it all,
Be each prize big or small,
So long as it brings them joy.

Then there’s how they tend to whine
When they don’t get their chance to shine—
Mainly ‘cause they’re, folks say,
Lazy pains in the A
Who refuse to put in any time

To achieve anything from life,
So they sit on their haunches and gripe
‘Bout how life’s too tough
As they beg for stuff
And rant on ‘bout their personal strife.

‘Tis a tradition mean in spirit,
And each age group is forced to hear it,
Whether they deserve to
Or it’s just one big poo
By the system as we’ve come to fear it,

And from one generation on,
Each has come to sing the same song,
Bemoaning the nation’s fate
And showering hate
‘Pon the young, even when they’re dead wrong.

The “Silent Generation” was first
To have their elders scorn them and worse
For being “lost,”
Which, in turn, cost
Them the quality of their verse

When the mocked stood fast ‘gainst their attacks
And with keen minds, bold hearts, and strong backs
Pushed forth and made their way
To conquer the day,
Proving wrong the naysaying pack.

The “Baby Boomers” came next,
Followed by “Generation X,”
And both, too, rose above
The sheer lack of love
Of their critics, leaving them vexed.

Now, though, the “Millennials” are
The ones being bashed wide and far
By generations before
For being “weird” and more
In spite of what likenesses are

Shared ‘tween them and, furthermore,
The challenges that’ve been in store
And still exist today
For them in many ways
That hinder their plight all the more

To rise ‘bove discrimination,
As had prior generations,
But the elders only see
Needy mooches too lazy
To earn themselves any salvation,

Having forgotten their own plight
When they were that age one night
And the sneering doubt
They felt in and out
‘Til the day they squared up to fight

To prove that they did have the gall
To come to terms with it all
And prove worthy of
Their elders’ love
As they answered adulthood’s call,

And here we are ages in the wake
Of these eras. Now it’s time to take
A stand, “Millennials,”
To shut up the lulz
And show you, too, have what it takes.

Rise above the stereotypes
That paint via your elders’ gripes.
Prove that you can work hard
No matter how hard
Each roadblock ‘fore you is to wipe.

Stand tall and let your spine and brain
Aid you in your pursuit to gain
The prestige and power
You seek at this hour
While your thickened skin shrugs off the pain.

Put to use every tool you can find
To score you the piece of mind
You need to make your mark
In these times oh so dark
And leave everyone’s flack well behind,

For you know that you’ve deep within
The grit that can help you win.
All you need is to shout
To let it all out,
“In your face, doubters! I’m gonna win!”

Then you make the most of what you’ve got
And show all that you’re not just some sot
Who just sits on your rump
Crying on ‘bout the dump
Where your toys take up every slot.

Then, as it all comes to an end,
I’ll bet you that ‘round the bend,
The glory you seek
Will be but a few feet
From where your feet shall be standing, friends.

After all, such was what the fate
Of your parents and grandparents, mates,
No matter how much
They’ll rant, rave, and such
‘Bout how they had it ‘fore they were great,

For no matter how different we are,
We’ve more similarities by far
Than we all realize
‘Cause we’re all gals and guys
Walking under heaven’s countless stars,

And when cut down to basic stuff,
All our lives have moments so tough
They become do or die,
And we either fly
Or squirm like worms ‘neath the rough,

Proving this whole “generations” bull
Just a waste of time we must annul,
Yet we still buy the hype
Of the stereotype
Of the lazy, whiny brat, thick in skull,

Which we all use to illustrate
Young folks just ‘cause we can’t relate
To them, or so we claim,
So we keep shoving blame
Onto them for things being not so great,

Even though once upon a time,
Our elders committed that same crime
‘Gainst us, as per the way,
Thus making us pay.
Knowing that, don’t you think it’s time

To put an end to this tradition
And all this petty attrition
Founded on made-up hate
T’wards whom we can relate
And can teach to form the right volition?

‘Tis an act that makes little sense
In the grand scheme. Hence, let’s dispense
Wisdom rather than scorn
Eve, afternoon, and morn
So we can see this world heal hence.

This blind bickering, after all,
Hasn’t helped us evade any fall,
So let’s knock it off now
‘Fore we falter—and how!—
And let the healing no longer stall,

For we’ve but one life guaranteed.
Let’s spend it helping those in need
So we all can move on
And sing happy songs
And Mother Earth ceases to bleed.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com


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