Humanity

And Lot's wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human. So she was turned into a pillar of salt. So it goes.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

Gilded Age

How long should we presume this gilded age

Staring at the wall.

Ever longing…

Sometimes hoping

always longing

Wait now pause --

Silence fills the emptey streetes.

Where lovers met now mother weeps

still crowded silence falls

plastic magic with a switch

how much would you pay for that

what would you give for that

How long should we presume this gilded age?

I just thought of this idea for a poem and quickly came up with this. Consider it a work in progress