My Generation by McKenzie Ford

When I sat down in my English class I heard from my teacher:

“Write a story about the future!”

I know what she expected

Flying cars, robots and super computers?

That isn’t what she got.

The children she teaches don’t see hope in the future, we see restrictions

And she didn’t tell us to write fiction – so we write what we predict

We wrote about strict governments and hopelessness

Because we see the inequality, we know

That everyone, everywhere is in danger

At home, on the streets, in a room of strangers

When did we stop believing in a bright future?

We stopped trying to invent flying cars

And we started obliviously destroying our nation

But I don’t think that’s what my teacher meant,

When she told us:

“Use personification.”