This right here
This age
Won’t last long
I have but a decade
To direct myself on the
Trajectory
That I want to be on in 10 or 20 years
See, I’m twenty-something
There’s a newfound freedom
To be taught
A mirror that needs wisdom
Society calls me a millennial
An Echo Boomer, Gen We
A narcissist
I thought we were American’s
I thought we were free
I thought we were diverse
Whatever freedom there is, is so finite
That we are tricked into thinking,
Once I’m twenty–
something I’m free for good
As if all of life
Is this post-twenty-something time
But for now I’m avoiding that
Small-town heat, or a flat, or fixing the
Metabolic pang I’ve had since
I passed the
Third St. Francis Church a while back
While my
Symbol-driven mind tries to put together what won’t
Make sense ‘til I’m twenty–
Seven in San Fran,
Reliving the summer that I rode a bicycle
Searching for self, place, sky,
Only to find that I still have a yearning
For more