Pride In A New Breed

I'm getting older.

So are you.

So are we all.

Slowly, but not slow enough.

Are we worth all this expense?

Is our sharpness, or keenness,

Our wit, our stings,

And the mastery we built,

Is any of it worth this?

This dying earth,

These crushed things.

Bent in the dirt.

Will these cities outlast us,

Will a new race of man look up,

On a new, green day,

With flowers sprouting through asphalt,

With strange new mammals,

Galloping through empty urban landscape.

And sunbeams shooting through clean air,

Will there be the ruins of skyscrapers swaying,
Hollow for a thousand years,

In the breeze of a better time?

Will the shells of cars rust in the dawn of a new age?

Will there be grass again?

Will the seas be blue again?

Will the earth heal?

Will the life come back,

Will the breed that comes after us,

Look up and out and around,

At the ruin of the old world?

Will they be better?

Will they outlast their cities,

And their star?

Would I be proud of them?

What are we breeding?

Will they learn from us,

As we didn't.