Generation Naked — a short poem

A walk through campus felt like a game of spot the parts. With indecency becoming the new normal, the tradition of prim and proper dies a slow but sure death.

With each passing day, we get bolder and bolder in the incomplete nature of our fashion.

Short skirts paving the way to our success and when advantage is taken, we scream rape.

We were warned, weren’t we?

Told stories of old that felt more like excuses than they did lessons.

Now its bras off, skirts short, and trousers torn.

Where did the dignity of our youth go?

Did it die with the boomers, ushering in the subtle art of not giving a fuck? Perhaps, our conscience has simply gone to sleep in this generation.

Our generation naked.