Inebriated Generation (The Power Of “Tion” 3)

So here is the 3rd instalment of The Power Of “Tion series! Please check out the 1st and 2nd editions in the links below, hope you enjoy!
1st edition – Since I Met You (The Power Of “Tion” 1)
2nd edition – WWW. (The Power Of “Tion” 2)

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Inebriated Generation (The Power Of “Tion” 3)

A world full of mass intoxication,
Drunken aggravation,
Tipsy youth intimidation,
With celebrity manipulation.
A different modernisation,
A culture modification,
Which glamorises inebriation,
Through television visualisation.
Different identification,
With no determination,
And no aspiration,
At their own obligation.
A downfall of a generation,
For their own glorification,
Wasting all their education,
With constant relaxation.
No care for their reputation,
Alcohol infatuation,
They love incrimination,
It’s cool to be on probation.
Morale obliteration,
Behaviour with no justification,
Don’t care for information,
Or their own rehabilitation.
After this observation,
I’m getting the indication,
There’s a boozing acceleration,
Sweeping right across this nation.
Which could be the annihilation,
Of the young association,
So lets stop this fascination,
And start this rectification.

A poem by Corey Booth 15/07/13 … 🙂
Twitter – @CoreyPoetry

A Homeless Child

A Homeless Child

The child wanders the streets,
day after day,
With only tattered clothes on his back,
And no where to stay,

Affection is now a memory,
From his family he got deserted,
Now he has to it on his own,
Even though he don’t deserve it,

It’s a daily struggle,
Just to find something to eat,
With holes in his shoes,
The rubbles hurting his feet,

Searching through trash,
Begging in the town,
People just turn a blind eye,
Which is getting him down,

At nights he’s a target,
To older men he’s easy pray,
He would keep his eyes open,
As in the cold he would lay,

The charity soup kitchen,
He can go to twice a week,
Full of people with addictions,
He feels to scared to even speak,

Avoiding daily abuse,
Because he’s to weak to fight,
Unhygienic and unhealthy,
With no civil or economic right,

Always witnessing violence,
Sometimes he’s on the receiving end,
Alone with no one to talk to,
At nights he prays for a friend,

In the winter its tough,
Through his ripped clothes he’s cold,
He thinks he will have this life,
Until he gets grey and old,

Him and 100 million others,
Are going through this pain,
Children getting abandoned,
Again and again.


A Poem By Corey Booth – 25/04/12