Poem: Late Scourge

A poem about the worry of “golden idealism”

The golden idealism is coming for us all,
it’s the gold watch we feel we’re owed.

One day we’ll step up to claim it, step
up to shame whoever might seem to be

standing in our way. This is the ugliness
of today. Be hopeful for enough awareness,

be sure it’s not you and your idealism, let
the golden hues settle on anyone else.