‘Capitalism Through Teenage Eyes’ – A poem by 16-year-old me

Perhaps there is this big picture we do not see,
A picture that is a product of our cause and effect.
Something that is an omen of the future for you and me.

To destroy what we don’t understand or what we fear, 
Is a recurring disease of the human defect.

To become sheep, herded by the wolves of politics,
And unquestioningly follow all that we’re told.

Our home and mother, 
Once grand and balanced,
All life in order,
Now suffering from our laziness, our cowardice, and our ignorance.

The trees where the eagle and raven once sat, 
Now cut down and made into a desk for our technology or a seat for the gluttonous.
Perhaps that is how a raven compares to a writing desk.

Upon that desk, we write these commandments and make these resolutions,
Forever archived with the pen of history in the blood of others’ lives and sacrifices.
And yet forever these are just words we speak instead of actions we take.

As our species grows on the illusion of progression,
Our supply of life and the natural luxury of the world withers,
Making our progression instead a step back from a future that is stolen from us each day.

Afraid for the next generations, we restrict our lives and keep quiet out of safety,
And allow for those in power to control us, to control our voices.

They feed us their meat, their pills, and their cancer and lies, 
So they always control the majority of our lives.

Though we may have the right to use our voice, 
Rarely do we effectively use it,
And little does it feel like we ever really have a real choice.

Because to speak up or act takes courage,
And courage is not taught to us alongside obedience.

We have been conditioned to be chronically and socially lethargic, 
Because the controlled are much too lazy or fearful to rebel.

So we only dream of revolution and reform, 
Expecting our neighbor to fix the problem,
Sacrificing them for our own hope of a better world,
And never stand beside them in solidarity out of fear of death.

For the way the world spins now leaves us with very little heaven,
And much of it feels like hell.

Yet what a world we could create,
If we could allow love to overcome our fear,
And treat life as sacred, no matter the cost.

A Note About the Poem

Recently, going through old files, I came across this poem I wrote in late 2010, when I was just 16 years old. I don’t recall what teenage me was feeling or going through at that time, or what exactly was happening in the world then, but fuck if this doesn’t echo through time and resonate with what is happening right now. (I did adjust it a bit, but the bulk of the poem is still here.)

Realistically, what I expressed here has always been true, and will remain true until we overhaul our society to change our ways.

I am proud to know that through my teenage eyes, I saw somewhat clearly, even back then, the reality of the world.

P.S. – the “raven like a writing desk” part is absolutely a nod to my obsession with Alice in Wonderland, which the live-action version had come out earlier that year.

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