Plastic Generation Poem by Spiritwind Wood

When your name is only a number
in a plastic generation
and colors are only an imagination
burning through a blood red sky
when the dreams they mean nothing
in the black of forever
still trying to reach for something
in the dark of your own revelation
who you going to be
when the world that you hunger for
is no longer anymore
as they watch your soul die
and freedom is no longer free
through who's eye's are you going to see
Spiritwind ©2015