In bitterness we exist,
we being I, me, you
tired in an age of endless energy
unaware we went wrong at the beginning.
broken choices and strained voices
ask if this is right?
wrong being impossible
because failure was never acceptable.
to stay, to wander,
there is no reason
although I’m sure I once had it
raise the toast and praise
with sour notes pouring down slit throats
we were once told this was living
but the puppeteer stopped performing
it was once for the best,
adult things weighing on children’s chests
there is nothing left to do,
but wonder why we came.