Every generation believes it be the last greatest one that will walk the Earth.

The final ones to shoulder the standard before a shadow falls on Empire

and weeds start to grow beneath humanity’s feet,

and weave their way silently to the fatted necks

slung low by the weight of unrealistic expectation.

We are kept in check by the ghosts of grandparents and their memories,

we understand the mistakes they made, the unexpected dances

they waltzed on generation’s passed and the now forgotten graves

that sit row upon row like stone guards awaiting a presidential cavalcade