I am a sponge.
Absorbing everything,
Filled to capacity.
But I am shrinking,
Ingesting the poisons
Of a toxic society.
I am a mirror.
Reflecting an image
Of the world you want to see.
But I am broken,
And all that’s left
Are fragments of a tragedy.
I am a balloon.
Inflated with the hope
Of those who believe.
But I am leaking,
There’s a gap in logic
And dreams are depleting.
I am a door.
Open to the change
Occurring; inevitably.
But I am closing,
Following the minds
Of those who were meant to lead.
I am a bridge.
Forever linking enemies
And bringing a peace.
But I am crumbling,
Into the ever-growing void
Between honor and sanity.
I am a cup.
Full to the brim
With expectant promises.
But I am overflowing,
Each empty promise left unfulfilled
And trust a mere fantasy.
I am a generation.
Handed the future
For all posterity.
But I am underachieving,
Disillusioned by a world
In desperate need of saving.
I am we.
YOU ARE READING
I am
PoetryA poem. Who am I? Who are you? Who are we? (Dedicated to @JackkDaniels for being an amazing inspiration and poet)