Ok, Boomer. Move Over — the Future is Here
A poem for anyone who has been verbally assaulted, judged, or thrown shade by people stuck in a less-progressive mindset.
“They” don’t understand you
Those people aren’t for you, anyway.
“They” don’t value progression,
And they definitely don’t want to hear what you have to say.
The same ones who judge
Are the people living in a consumeristic wasteland.
They judge free-thinking
Yet pay thousands to see throwback rock & roll band.
Too fearful to make their own music
Too insecure to deeply converse.
Think life’s greatest moments
Are exclusive to weddings and childbirth.
No judgments to be had
On the simpletons who pray to the television.
No sympathy or time to be sad
A 9–5 job & playing ball on weekends, tunnel vision.
Ok, boomer.
And the offspring the following suit.
Ok, boomer.
Your opinion is mute.
Complaining of what is
And what has always been.
Yet criticizing new ideas
Expecting relationships like Barbie & Ken.
Monogamy is dead
At least, it will be soon.
A glimpse of a relationship structure in the grand scheme of time,
Thinking one human will meet all needs, goon.
If loving only 1 soul forever is “right”
Why are divorce rates over 50 percent?
What makes you think your God
Created a human just for you — heaven sent?
Vein to think
You’re a special f*cking snowflake.
Create bonds so secure
New ones won’t give ’em a shake.
If multiple lovers are scary to you
Why not take a moment to reflect
What are you really scared of?
A life divided, intersect?
The thing about love
Is that it’s limitless.
A renewable source of energy,
The ultimate bliss.
Maybe the fears of loving
More than one human at a time.
Step from no self-love,
The ultimate crime.
Can you love yourself enough
To see your lover enjoy a different connection?
Can you radically accept your
Without wearing a jealous complexion?
Time spent gossiping
Time spent consuming.
It’s easy to judge,
With your insecurities looming.
Fearing creativity
And a new perspective
How far has that gotten you?
Closer to the greater collective?
No, no, no.
Sit still at your desk.
Keeping eating that flesh,
Your diet is grotesque.
In the grand scheme, it doesn’t matter
We all die in the end.
Was your life spent loving
Or complaining? FULL SEND.
