Poetically Incorrect

The skyline’s on fire

And I’m at it again

On top of the clouds

I don’t want it to end

Then I think of how many people

Have never seen this before

A lifetime on foot

While above was ignored

But its not just the wind

Floating stagnant above

It was the space all around them

Filled with problems to solve

We’re free to speak, I’m told

Yet every time it’s challenged

We fold

Lock and load, if you’d like to

But a gun-free zone sign

Won’t protect you

We think we’re a mile high

But it might just be ground zero

Our leaders attempted and failed

So we elected ourselves as the hero.

Then look at what we’ve created

A thinly veiled digital graveyard

To connect, complain then berate it

See something you want?

Have it delivered straight to your door

We have access to things, humans, life

Like never before.

From a horse and buggy

to just a few clicks

How far have we really come

Since 1776?