They come to broken schools from broken homes.
They know only fear and intimidation;
Mistakening it for respect and strength.
They fight amongst themselves
Battling for their lives.
Knowing somewhere deep down
That they are the forgotten
The poor,
The minority,
The lowest rung in our class society.
They’re fed sugar, caffeine and logos.
Then expected to focus on content
Increasingly disconnected from their lives.
Drugs are used to placate them.
Soma
Images of a “Brave New World”
A factory with its bells, whistles and clocks
Training workers
Not thinkers
Students push against the walls
Fight the only way they know
Pleading for help.
About Me
- lawrence
- As a teenager, I subscribed to the notion that one should "retire" (read: celebrate life) in his twenties so he could learn from the world less encumbered by material trappings and only then should he settle in to adulthood. The world may be a more compassionate place. This, I believe, is true luxury. I am now in my forties.
2 comments:
Larry,
I commend your ability to ponder and ache for those who fall at the bottom of the social structure. Many could not face such tragedy and allow it to digest.
Peace, MB
Hhhmm, yes Larry. I have also seen them. There is daycare in school so the children can have their children cared for while earning their high school diploma. Then we see them in the emergency room where the runny noses at midnight become 'my baby can't breathe!', or worse, the shaken and broken bodies from generations of lessons never challenged. As MB suggests, facing and digesting such tragedy is a challenge-hopefully to change SOMETHING-and hopefully it is a something we all can live with.
also with Peace, LZ
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