X, Y, and My

Each morning we greet the reality
That youth has been bartered for scant wisdom
For each naked hour brings fewer breaths
We, too, closer to the father’s kingdom

While we doddle and placate our senses
Wasting away our blessed currency
Not humble, but vain are we in languor
Sneering down our noses at history

For each new generation is unique
Or so it believes; Each remarkable
Though they are just a slave to the prior
Like Istanbul and Constantinople

So an X, in turn, shall define the Y
Then the Y shall set to define the My(ne)
And so it goes and so it goes and goes
The previous waiting for the latter
to die
Allowing the new
A view of heaven


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