A Lament for Generation Y

How lucky my parents were,
To huddle under iron beds,
Whilst the sky filled with planes,
And bombs rained down on neighbours and friends.

How lucky we were,
To stand arm in arm,
Fighting for pride and livelihood,
As a she devil pummelled our communities.

How lucky were both our generations,
Having to fight for what we believed.
Knowing the keys to the kingdom,
Would never be handed to us on a plate.

How lucky we were.

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