Frank asks us to choose and describe a poetic style. I find myself always turning to the more traditional poems, finding their rhythm soothing. Research tells me "A traditional poem is any poetic work that adheres to a definite verse structure or set of characteristics. traditional poems are known for typically following particular rhyme schemes and metrical patterns. However, contemporary poems favor free verse, which employs no rhyme or poetic meter." I'm afraid I don't know how to describe the metrical pattern of this poem, if any! Thanks to Frank for sending me on a journey of research to try to identify my "style"!
Submitted to dVerse
November 21, 2019
It’s the “me” generation
It’s in vogue to please yourself
The idea is highly touted
In the books upon the shelf.
Look out for number one
If it works so well, I wonder
Where happiness has gone?
The divorce rate is steadily climbing
And many are at the end of their rope
Are we so busy feeding our egos
We’re running out of cope?
Our houses are growing larger
At quite an alarming rate
First we have to find one another
Before we can communicate.
Our children grow up with a sitter
Who has problems of her own
When we decide to spend time with them
We find they’re nearly grown.
The men are at the golf course
And the women at the pool.
And the children leave the sitter’s
And go to nursery school.
The husbands go to the men’s clubs
The wives go to the spas.
Are they so busy self-developing
They forget the way it was
When love was new and joyous
And each lived for the other
And finding time together
Wasn’t such an awful bother?
Could it be we had the answer
In the not so long ago
When we weren’t hung up on possessions
And what we had for show?
When our concern was more for others
And we loved our fellow man
And we weren’t too busy self-developing
To lend a helping hand?
Could self-denial be fulfilling
And self-control enriching too?
Is it just we have the self misplaced.
I wonder, is that true?
There’s a very great difference
Between what we want and what we need
And what we call desire to achieve
Is perilously close to greed.
It seems what we wear not who we are
Is what it’s all about
But ugly is still ugly
If it comes from inside out.
We’re all looking for the answers
And there’s little else to say
But, if we reassessed our values
Would happy come back one day?