My generation, born in ease,  
We've only known prosperity's breeze.  
No world wars darkened our sky,  
No Great Depression to make us cry.  

We didn’t see the dust and toil,  
Or watch blood spill on foreign soil.  
No struggle for bread, no ration line,  
We've lived in times both smooth and fine.  

The internet’s always at our hand,  
Smartphones connecting sea to land.  
Cars whisk us fast from place to place,  
Comfort surrounds us, a constant embrace.

But now a different plague takes hold,  
Not hunger, not hardship, nor the cold.  
It’s entitlement, a silent creep,  
Ungratefulness runs vast and deep.  

We’ve lost the sense of what we’ve got,  
Forgotten battles others fought.  
Prosperity’s gift is ours to bear,  
Yet often we don’t even care.

Perhaps it’s time we take a stand,  
Grasp gratitude in every hand.  
To know that ease was dearly won,  
By those who faced a setting sun.

Created by
MarkWaldrop