Context

We used to call it...THE GENERATION GAP  
And I don't know what we're calling it now,  
But it's the same communication trap  
Entire cultures try to disavow.  
It's something most folks don't care to admit;  
Yet another form of mass denial  
Like thinking snowflakes need more manly grit  
Which only rubs away their sophomore smile.  

But a segregation is not the way  
To intermix experience and youth  
When death takes a toll each and every day  
On all those lingering fountains of truth.  
 
Oh to be sure those fountains are flawed  
And cannot compete with data from farms,  
But before you pay to ship us abroad  
Try to note our collective alarms  
As we struggle, still, to be of some use,  
In some capacity or another,  
Remember we note all hints of abuse  
Like techno-feudalistic Big Brother...  
Which you may think cannot happen here  
But fear devolves from the too common sneer,  
Undetected, by emoticon dot,  
Yet lurks in the body politic thought  
Which should be about community love  
And never some payback push for a shove;  
 
Something old folks ought to have learned  
Whenever their judgement wasn't adjourned.