Children of the Revolution

To you 
The children of the revolution 
I offer my deepest sympathy

To the bell-bottomed 
Who died on barren fields 
That oozed socio-political decay

When all you wanted was
       To light your truth-filled pipe 
       To breathe in 
       And watch your own mind 
       Playing with stars

       To Kodak a Soho thigh 
       And fill a worn out knapsack 
       With the sufferings of a dying world

       To lose yourself 
       In existential nothingness 
       And make love 
       To the world 
       Under a psychedelic sky

What an absurdity 
       That you should forget 
       Where you are 
       And that here 
       Such things 
       Are almost 

This is poem is a sample from Andrea Thompson’s earlier years.