1969

Hair longer then straight spagetti in a box
Headband pressing down on your locks
Pants all frayed with bottoms like a bell
A better future wishing into a wishing well

Music electric rock by name it is now called
Guitars twanging and its not from Alberts Hall
Drums drumming to drownd the sounds of war
In a place unknow to us on another shore

Just kids hop scotching and catching balls
We felt so safe inside our American walls
Abroad there was a conflict another story
So confused for it barren hopes of glory

What was will no longer be my friend you see
Divide and conquer willl always placate serenity
So we passed a pipe filled with dreams
Yet deep inside we were torn at the seams

Today we stand in the shoes of our parents
Still listening to music just heirs apparent
Another coin tossed into the wishing well
And I always answered Moms dinner bell

by Antonio Cavaluzzo

Other poems of CAVALUZZO (1)

Comments (3)

From one old hippie to another, thanks for a great write. Joe Petrocelli
But I'm still smokin and wearing bell bottoms hahahah hairs a bit shorter though good one dave
Thanks for the flash back. I've been talking about the same things to friends. I enjoyed your work. Alaska