This generation feels like unlucky saplings,

Shaded and smothered by a developed canopy.

The tall trees are ignorant to their advantage of age and timing,

Having had abundant space and potential.

Now they tower above it all,

Their greed oblivious to how it oppresses all below.

But storms and turmoil will come again,

To deconstruct the old and shower it across the new,

Making room for us to reach heights that we never knew.