So Much for Meritocracy

They say

Remember the good old days

But we're so young that we have none

And, if at all, should we belong

It's to a blank generation with no idealism to fall back upon

The taste is so sweet but it slips off the tongue

As if falling this fast could be another race won

But we're already out of time

Already out of breath

About to cross the finish line

With absolutely nothing left

And in every last gasp between

The things they say and the nothing they mean

The air we swallow shall be empty

As we struggle to keep their false momentum going

When it's not even a close call, this scramble for the drivers seat

The steering wheel remains out of reach for those considered to be "beneath"

Look outside and only our eyes will see

For us the road signs are blank - not blurry

We'll never know if this was an opportunity

To go anywhere

To be anything

Or just a question of "why bother?"

Why bother knowing anything?

Except when to admit defeat