Perhaps I was born overly sensitive,
I was delivered in ’59,
and the Wars that were fought behind me,
seemed so starkly
cut and dried.

Perhaps I stayed naively sensitive,
I belong to a Generation Void,
and the crimes that once were around me,
were so overly
simplified.

Perhaps I became coldly insensitive,
I am now connected, and worldly-wise,
and the deeds that I see surrounding me,
seem so selfishly
over-contrived.

Perhaps I am once again sensitive,
I have children, and see my coming demise,
while the world is smaller with unreason,
making Life’s path
less a paradise.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 3/27/03