I dream of a better world,
One that requires a new and better word
To describe it.
Utopia sounds boring.
Sometimes I pray
In anticipation of a generation
That does not consider itself next
But first.
Roads have sides
Not ends
And the Earth is round
And we will reach our destination
Soaring.
Weaving the fabric of ideas
That build the buildings
Of this world spinning…
The new generation will come through
With cooler stuff to do.
And those who get off on the wrong foot
Who steal and lie and manipulate
Are still people
And still belong on the planet
But that don't make them right.
Even viruses
Are a part of this environment.
And often flowers grow
In excrement.
The leeches and the beggars will mooch and suck
The resources, be they luxurious or not
And they will act as if comfort is a right
But that's okay (ish).
History will forget those
Who provide nothing.
And the thieves and the murderers
Will be remembered
For all the wrong reasons.
Their deaths will be celebrated by some
But hey, we all got exes who want us dead.
And maybe that's just life.
But for now we will seek a new way
To make better the best
And for now we will search each new day
For a softer place to rest.
And it is fallacy to think
That we can manipulate evil minds
Into good ones.
And it is fallacy to think
That we can manipulate the best minds
For our own ends.
But still we will try.
(And I will sigh.)
To nurture the best minds
We must first know what it is
We need find.
Humility, like anger, is a gift.
And the best minds hide.
A better word
Describing a better world
With better people
Is not the answer.
It's the question.
And the answer is who.
Yes, the answer is you.