I have seen some of the brightest lights of our generation dim with passing time
They stand – hushed – behind the heavy oak doors of the dark melancholy bungalows
The brick and mortar monsters that haunt the streets we walked in our youth
Our chests were puffed out then like crazy lions hunting in an aggressive pride
The brightest lights of our generation were the center of the solar system
We revolved around them earnestly and protectively and without fear
They transcended the labels and the laws that strained to keep the rest of us in line
We had no idea we were the lights in another solar system not of our making
We never even understood who we were until much later – we learned in our own time
The fall from the pristine street into the lonely bungalow never happened to us
We were born the new light
We live the brightest of lights
Our light is radiant and constant
We will die before we fade away
We will leave our light for the generations of tribes who will follow where we walked
