Jennette Mccurdy

I found a picture of my mother
In her bell-bottom jeans
Flowers in her hair
Two fingers up for peace
In that Polaroid she smiled, a grown up baby boomer
Maybe mama walked down the wild side
Walking on the moon
What will they say about us?
I've heard stories about my grandpa
Child of the Great Depression
How growing up broke creates
And deep and dark impression
He sits in a rocker down at the veterans' home
Even when I got to visit
He still rocking all alone
What will they say about us?
They call us generation lost
Or generation greed
Or the connected generation
To a plasma screen
Or a generation why
Enough is not enough
Or maybe they'll call us
Generation love, generation love
We are children of divorce
Victims of dysfunction
We spell check, of course
And GPS the proper junction