Hipster Hippie

Wild child, with flowers (bought at a trendy farmers market) in her hair. Wild child, at a music festival taking a photo (and posting it to Instagram) as a memento of her life in mode carpe diem, life is meant to be lived! Wild child, with a self-assurance (built through practice posturing in front of a mirror) that announces her presence to the world. Wild child, so free and at peace and at one with the world. Can't you feel the pulse of life in every breath that the world takes? Can't you sheeple see how your obsession with status and money and the status quo is all false? Why can't you see the world for what it truly is, like I can. Like how I can see into reality, into the truth of things in a way others can't. Wild child, born into Le Wrong Generation.

nonsense

this is a piece of writing
writ just for you
to take and toss among
all the other pieces of writing
that were also made for
your consumption

How easy words and language have become. I don't even feel that bad about writing such crappy poetry anymore.