Restoration

While out walking

In a land that loathed reality

But craved it above all else

I was walking nowhere

But still attached to my gait

As it was continuing my movement in the cold

I passed a briskly walking man

His chin extended when we passed

A professional it would seem

Three piece suit

Complete with expensive shoes

This man’s garb said it all

He was raised to be this way

Since his birth he’d wished to be wealthy

Above all things, he was proud of himself

The cord spiraling down from his ear

It was the latest in cellular technology

But he spoke no words, no inspiration from his tongue

As I walked, another man passed me by

Slightly older, however still a professional

But no pride was in his step

One could see, his shoulder’s slumping,

Head turned down,

No strength left,

But who could blame him,

It was obvious, he was never proud

Merely doing what he was told

He was talking to no one

No phone attached to his ear

Merely his own thoughts, echoing in his head

As I walked, and thought

I wondered how many men reacted this way

To simple American youth

Were we all we could be? Perhaps. Were we all we should be? No