Legacy of the Greats

 

We love to criticize the generation that follows,

Without thinking, without seeing the seeds we’ve sown in the shadows.

They’re glued to their screens, we say they’re lost,

But wasn’t it us who built the bridges they crossed?

We had our newspapers; they have bright screens.

We read in silence; they swipe with curious fingers unseen.

The wheel turns, everything changes without disappearing,

Transformation is key; nothing fades, nor is reappearing.

A philosopher once said, “Nothing is created, nothing is lost,”

And a wise man confirmed, under the sun, all is but exhaust.

When we see them hypnotized by their phones,

Let’s remember, we forged the tools that have become their zones.

We built the walls they examine with precision,

We shaped them but cry out at the division.

Before we judge, let’s look behind,

Were we better, or simply of a different mind?

Each generation weaves a chain of humanity,

The strong support the young, rebuilding vitality.

It’s not their fault if screens hold them captive,

But the drive of our past projects guides their directive.

So let’s not judge blindly but seek to understand,

A generation is a flower in time’s vast land.

Let’s share with love, not shame or regret,

For all they do echoes the legacy we beget.