TWENTY TWO
It is as true now as then.
I think they will remember this as the age of lamentations, the age of broken minds and broken souls, The age of hurt creatures and sobbing out their sorrow to the rhythm of the blues – The music of lost Africa’s desolation become the music of the town. The age of failure of splendid things, The age of the deformity of splendid things, The age of old young men and bitter children, The age of madness and machines, Of broken bodies and fear – twisted hearts, The age of frenzied fumbling and possessive lusts – And yet, deep down, an age unsatisfied by dirt and guns, An age which though chocked by the selfishness of the few Who owned their bodies and their souls, Still struggle blindly to the end, And in their time reached out magnificently Even for the very stars themselves.
@TrulySteve