We are the generation of the restless,
where we don’t know why life is a mess,
We saunter, we banter
Recluse and repulse,
hide out when all we want to be is found.
We ignore to be seen,
we judge not be judged,
We gossip because we know we are being gossiped too.
We criticize, hurt, reject, dishonor,
all for fear for we too have received.
Shy away in a hideout
be a wallflower because we know there are too less to care.
Glide away in passion,
when all else fades, there is always Instagram.
We post the life we don’t live,
A caption as catchy and meaningless to a picture, hoping to be seen.
We always follow the pack,
Doing what others do,
So that somebody feels we are out of their league.
Deep inside, its somebody else who has a better friend,
a better job, more money, and also a better spouse.
We look into the mirror to find one freckle to the other,
popping zits to worse till scars turn darker.
A concealer here and there, till our souls are numb and everything is left for pretense
Who we are inside is reckless,
Time bound to take some time out..
wrecking our brains, our minds, ourselves,
in a disguise for what we call life.
A mocha to ease the rush or a latte,
Nothing works for that respite,
No sugar, no alcohol, no caffeine, just some plain direction to quench the thirst, even water cannot subside.
We are the generation of the lost, the misguided, the know it all
The generation when we look to be sought
even when there is no resort..