Preston Brooks Fine Art

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A Boy Named "X":

 

 

Generation X

that's what they call us.

Funny name for

the sons and daughters

 

Of a whole generation

categorized

with a single letter

to symbollize

 

The lack of thought

and understanding

towards millions of the

1970's children.

 

A generation of men

who grew up with no fathers

raised by feminist

man hating mothers.

 

And deadbeat dads,

absentee fathers

who see their girls as nothing more

than sluts like their mothers.

 

And they blamed all of their

problems on us

too blind to see us

as anything but

 

Products of their sins

and they're so ashamed

that they couldn't even

give us a name.

 

But they had to have everything

in its own little box,

and they filed us under

the letter X.

 

X marks the spot

on the floor that they tried

to scrub it and wash it and

bleach it and dye it

 

A different color

and paint a new face

on the constant reminders

of their worst mistakes.

 

When that didn't work

they just shut us out.

Left us to feed ourselves

hand to mouth.

 

We're the first generation

to make less than our folks,

and to them our suffering

is just a big joke.

 

They've already bankrupted

our social security,

so by the time I'm their age

there's nothing for me.

 

And they pretend they didn't spend

our college tuition

at Macy's and Bloomies

and European vacations.

 

And then they blame us

for not getting ahead,

and you know, dammit! sometimes

I wish I was dead.

 

They sold off our futures

in devilish contracts,

and they signed on that line

with the letter X.

 

X's like crosses

that cover the eyes

of the next generation

brought up on their lies

 

And parents are so out of touch

now they think

that television and Ritalin

can babysit.

 

And the next generation

who gets all the praise

is just lost in a

pharmaceutical daze.

 

They're slaves, not like us,

for they're slaves of the mind,

while we're the ones who get

kicked in the behind.

 

They don't even know

what they believe, what they feel

and it's our generation

who's keeping it real.

 

Maybe it's not my place

to criticize, I confess

because who the hell am I

But a boy named "X".

___

 

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