We To Me Poem by Grace M. Kraft

Once upon a time we danced,
Wrapped in our naïve youth.
In Angel Flights and Candies,
Gunnie Sax and Baby Soft,
Oh we thought we were cool.
The fall of Saigon marked our freedom,
And left us with so many more choices
Than the generation before us.
Gas crisis and inflation
At the lead of a southern farmer,
We had neither protest signs nor marches,
And with nothing left for us to fight about,
We became so self absorbed
In the pursuit of the ultimate pleasure,
The beginning of me not we,
Our legacy to the future.
Disco balls and pulsing lights
Do not define who we are,
Yet our effect on our future is distinctly felt
As morality continues its decline.
The demise of the nuclear family
And all that it entailed
Lay shredded and shattered outside our door
For all that mattered was me not we.
Perhaps our parents had it right
When they spoke of self sacrifice,
When they held to ideals and tradition,
When morality was measured
By the things you just didn’t do.
Perhaps they had something to believe in
For they had never had to lose
The sense of we to me.