National Poetry Month 2014 poem a day challenge

April 3rd

Rusty Joints

A time has passed,

between here, and there,

In which I have lost all faith,

all resolve, in technology.

Technology gets old,

it quickly becomes obsolete

by the next generation of its kind.

By the time its years are up,

the world has changed,

and they know nothing.

They get rusty,

they grow old,

and the fuel that once helped them,

the oil that soothes their joints,

does nothing to comfort

their old and broken parts.

Now the world is a wasteland,

with landfills of metal, plastic,

waste of a different time.

It consumes the bright past.

Always develop further,

for even we have rusty joints.