If You Disapprove of This Generation

Oblivious to reality

Being a 21st century teen

I care less about real life

Rather, I’m glued to a screen.


Ticking away and chatting

Earphones blasting all day long

Ignoring my elders all the time

The youth is in the wrong.


Now that pleased adults have left

Clicked off my poem, mumbling

Obscenities about my generation

‘Good for nothing’ I’m sure they’re grumbling.


Of course, there’s lovely people

Who aren’t like them, I’m sure

But you must agree, there’s lots

Smug and whiny, opinions obscure


Kids in 2018 aren’t as monstrous

As by the public we’re often seen

Yes, some things we do are cringy

But once, weren’t you also thirteen?


Always on their cell phones!

Is a point that you might raise

But isn’t posting a selfie better

Than being a racist, sexist laze?


In fact isn’t it a shame

From a five minute video I learn more

Than sitting for seven hours in a room

Listening to some frightful bore?


Hair pinned back and skirts pleated

What a pleasing sight to see

Spit out crammed information in exams

Lo and behold! You have a degree!


These video games promote violence!

Scoffs a grandma somewhere

Well, serial killers existed quite before

Mortal kombat was there.


Too outspoken! No respect!

Some of you might wail angrily

We aren’t the ones shouting at retail

Lowering workers’ morale, are we?


My classmate: bright and gentle

You couldn’t meet someone sweeter

Whimpers at the sight of a bad grade,

Afraid her mom will beat her.


Another is a boy who loves to dance

His ambitions in ballet clear

But scared of father’s disapproval

He studies to become an engineer.


The future is doomed, some complain

These kids are clearly no good

Mam, take a look at the present

Is it doing as well as it should?


Disclaimer: all elders aren’t like this

But there’s many who are, truly!

Many are lucky to have good parents

We’ll make you proud, we’re not unruly


But if you stick to backdated ideals

And still think children are out of whack

Do young individuals a favour

And cut us a little bit of slack.


We’ll voice our opinions, aid our friends

(What a lot of you don’t want us to do)

But I’m afraid we must rise up

Else (I’m sorry), we might end up like you.

**mic drop**


A View

So…what’s the tagline of my blog?

“Stories, poems, and views of the world by me.”

I’ve got poems and I’ve got stories. But it isn’t very often that I’ve shared my views. But that’s one thing I love about poetry- in the form of a poem, there’s so much one can express. Poetry is a form of art that is free. It is a blank canvas upon which we can paint with our thoughts however we like- whether it be haywire and intrepid, or soft and minimal. Most of the time, one can tell a lot about one’s character by observing the way they speak. You may not know it, but you soon get to know a lot about a person’s character and personality without them telling you directly. In a way, there’s a lot of ‘views’ I have expressed. And that is why I love poetry so much- it’s a sort of mini autobiography presented in a unique way.

But also, as I read other bloggers’ posts, it is just as enjoyable to learn about their thoughts and feelings in a raw and unedited form. It’s like talking to a friend (of which I do not have too many). I can express my same sentiments in a more minimal and mysterious way with poetry as I can with a more direct and simple story.

And I love both these ways! So I’m merely experimenting. Do I want this little blog of mine to be full of earnest, whole-hearted poetry? Yes, of course! I myself am a lover of reading poems by different artists. But… I shall also introduce some posts like this. So whilst your scrolling up your reader with a cup of coffee, or you just popped over to my blog for a visit notified by an e-mail, or you just randomly stumbled upon this, OR you’re a kid from my school who is excitedly reading this so that you can tease me about me having a blog when you see me next (believe me, that’s happened a lot), you have a healthy mix of some poetry- and some experiences.