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  • Commencement

    Spoiled brats strutn' across the old stage
    Have no idea how much I owned it
    Back when I was their age . . .

    Never mundane, never vain, charisma to spare,
    The highest definition of savoir faire.
    Courteous and eloquent; handsome, brave and sincere.
    An effortless grace no longer found around here.

    From here's imagined future looks like totally bleak
    Because these kids today are soft, sloppy and weak.
    A deformed sense of perspective surrenders control
    To agents in their models with no hint of soul.

    Malevolent dynamics' rivalry and rage
    Render an irrational, reckless age
    Completely dissatisfied, driven to desperation,
    Living on suspicion, guilt, and alienation.

    Perpetual anger, intergroup conflicts,
    Every extra bit awkward and intense,
    Soon haunted by children
    Too discouraged to ever take a risk

    Never configure what they're meant to do,
    Much less who they're supposed to do it to.
    Susceptibly wander through a digital abyss,
    A bunch of hopeless losers nobody will miss.

    Then I remember these kids aren't that different from me.
    If we all got together I'm sure we would agree
    There's wonder beyond words still yet to be
    Faintly contemplated by all these fish I see.

    One mind and then another adapt to circumstance,
    Find a rhythm and a tempo, step into the dance,
    Arrange an inferred order to display an array
    Of estimates meant to express what's happening today.

    Imagine an abstraction,
    Anticipate an action,
    Try your best to understand
    And to lend a helping hand.

    The stars will all burn out, but not before I go blind
    And can't recall what I saw that changed my mind.
    An occasional suggestion something might be true
    Seems to be enough to keep pushing me through

    Construct and express, discover and devise.
    Don't be afraid to disagree or compromise.
    Meet every challenge, raise every voice.
    Be grateful every day and every day rejoice.

    Consequences of our misses are an unpleasant sight
    That seeing helps us learn how to make things right.
    We all die one way, by having a chance to live,
    And we grow a little bit when we learn how to forgive.

    Other minds out there beyond our fractal maze
    Could be paranoia or the architects' gaze
    Adjusting perception from out of nowhere
    When all this time we thought they didn't even care.

    As tempty tasty trifles tickle all our lowest wants,
    Something we can't name still holds fast.
    Each grain of sand's resigned to being swept away,
    Yet still the beach might not be lost at last.

    [May 2021 - The Boy turns 18 and graduates from high school. I love you, buddy.]

  • #2
    Poldy Great tribute piece. Congratulations to your graduate!