who were we fooling

 
all those times that
  went before us when
     we were as young as
           a new spring rising

 going downtown on
     a Friday or Saturday
    
shopping for clothes,
  records, having lunch

laughing too loud
  
   cursing too much

      asking to bum a
        smoke from a friend

                sneaking a six pack

we were unafraid,
  immortal and forver
     beautiful like an oil
       painting by Vermeer
        
   believing we knew
      the world better than
            the world knew us

we didn't know it,
   but we were in a
    race to outlive life

yeah...
  sure
      right

like all the generations
     that came before, we
        were hustled into the
          great machine, chewed
                up and spat back out
                  onto the starving earth

half of us insane
  half of us addicted
    half of us in the grave
         and the last half lost
           in self inflicted wounds
              so deep that the sunlight
                   became a bitter enemy

while the world kept
 turning, turning, turning

and awaited gleefully
  for it's next feast of fools