We’re on a verge of
An artistic movement
That will seem dystopian
To future generations.
I always wondered,
How did people think
That was okay?
How did people even
Live through that?
The first time I saw 9/11
In my history book
I realized it wasn’t quite so far,
The world started burning
Long ago, but we’ve just
Acclimated to the heat.
Now rain forests start burning,
Gunshots echo in hallways,
We have five year old children
Practicing lockdown drills,
A pandemic runs rampant,
And people watch the stock market
Instead of the death rate,
Civilians are on battle grounds
Of wars that should have
Ended in 1865 – that shouldn’t
Have even started in the first place,
We send teachers and children
To a breeding ground of viruses,
Knowing full well that some
Won’t make is to Christmas,
And don’t recognize how goddamn hard
It is for children to become adults.
And as I sit here wondering
If I should apologize for
Getting political, I also wonder
If that would seem odd
To someone if the future,
Because why the fuck is
Any of this political?
Because I know now this
Doesn’t just seem like
A dystopian society,
And people will watch see that
Plastered on canvases
And whatever literary works
People will read in classrooms,
And wonder how the hell
We managed to live through this.
The answer is many of us didn’t,
We just don’t memorialize our victims.
Chelarose 