Presence

I was alive once,
filled to the rim with ambition;
social cognition was a fallacy
to be proven innate.
Three years at University

and I was becoming transparent;
I was going to change the world,
instead I ended up at Psych services.
I am part of a lost generation
beyond Hemingway's realization

of the concept, like many before me;
like the young adults I see today.
This is fact not fiction—one day
they'll be out creating ultra-violence,
listening to Beethoven's ninth,

and calling each other 'droogies'.
Or maybe that was my generation,
lost in transition, bred
for recognition of failed architecture.
We are the Zoloft era,

and age is unrestrictive at this point;
fed pills and coerced onto couches
to be treated by doctors
with more problems than our own.
It's nothing that can't be learned

by looking to the night sky.
While the stars may seem to move
in relation to one another,
they end up in the same place,
as we claim presence to our dawn.