Old Wreckage, New Generations

Let’s learn through the past and present to lead our lives towards something better. 

These wreckage of issues and situations that came before us must be put out with a fight. 

It might’ve came through family, friends, a neighborhood or a messed up ideaology. 

I’ll never deny the faults of high power.

But there comes ultimate accountability and responsibility for detrimental decisions. 

No more blaming outsiders for the problems. 

No more dependence on the government.

No more changing one mindset.

Build your character and redeem yourself 

Build that money that’ll shape your house.

Cause soon your house demolishes as you perish.

I’ll never deny the evolution of humanity 

But please be careful on your dependence

On the ones you trust

The ones you hate

The materials you adore

And the time you got.

If you know who you are at heart

Then don’t allow makeup to conceal yourself

Concealed in the shape of

Comments that wrecks the nerve

Likes that boosts your adrenaline

Hate that fuels your response 

And thoughts that questions yourself

natural body

natural skill

natural beauty

And natural elements of this life can’t be taken for granted.

Guarding it for life because once it’s violated those scars will bring flashbacks. 

A new realization allows me to connect to all of us

Old generations

that are full of ignorance 

to coming of age  

to a new society 

to taboo topics 

and the self awareness 

to who we can be

Admit the struggles

once faced in life

Is this a warning 

Or is it advice?

Is it love 

Or is it hate?

You consider the value it means to you

As the messenger of this poem is only here to settle you into an endless story. 

One thought on “Old Wreckage, New Generations

  1. Kelsey Milian (she/her/hers)

    Sayquan! I really do think you need to submit this poem to a contest of a journal. Consider looking through submittable when you have the time. This is an incredible insight to the inner machinations of a generation so reliant on validation, but the way we might not release history repeats. A never-ending cycle… chills.

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