Generations

Growing in deepest shadows is a rage,
Eagerly awaiting its time on stage.
No one hears the song but we know the notes;
Everybody does these steps by rote.
Rumbling ever closer, the war draws near;
All the tracks are wet with crocodile tears.
The words will not come so we all just stare,
In the dark we wait for the coming tear.
Oh though we can all feel the crushing strain,
Nothing can stop that derailing train;
Shattered dreams will rust in pouring rain.

The End

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