They enter through the arches in the early morning light.
Young, healthy bodies move along with faces just as bright
As spotlights, pouring out enthusiasm as they make their way.
The workers at McDonald's have begun another day.
Although it is a menial nook, you'll hear no one complain
Or have an incongenial outlook similar to pain.
Their whole lives lie before them and, like many, they've begun
By serving skinny burgers on a sesame seed bun.
Our future doctors fix the fries and nurses pour the shakes.
There is no pharmacist alive who doesn't know it takes
Three seconds for the meat to thaw or how to fill a cup,
Our future lawyers serve it - future bankers ring it up.
They're going to be successes, each and every single one
And, if you ask, my guess is they will say before they're done,
They will all be rich and famous. Isn't that what Life's about?
The world is waiting patiently and they're just starting out.
So there they stand. The innocence of youth is on parade.
No possibility of failure lies in plans well-laid.
Amid the fries and apple pies, with ketchup on their hands
The leaders of our country's newest generation stand.
****He enters through the arches in the silent dead of night.
His uniform is threadbare and a badge reflects the light
From streetlamps bouncing off the valleys of a time-worn, wrinkled face
In motion and emotionless, the store guard takes his place.
He checks the doors around the store, makes periodic rounds,
His ears long since accustomed to all strange, nocturnal sounds
Then settles in a back booth near the corner of the wall
And lets his mind roam aimlessly on nothing much at all
If one could turn the pages back, oh, fifty years or so
To see the lad that this man represented long ago
One could have seen a bright, young boy set out to make his mark
Instead of this aged, huddled figure sitting in the dark.
But something passed along the years he did not understand
And adolescent dreams did not turn out as he had planned.
His hopes to turn the world around were met and neutralized
By resentment and indifference in Humanity's cold eyes.
No audience applauded as they did for picture shows
Depicting heroes conquering unconquerable foes.
No background music played to guide him - not one single song,
No happy endings out of novels ever came along.
His goals turned into gallstones as the years passed endlessly.
Opportunity knocked at times but he had lost the key.
Enthusiasm turned to spasms only seconds long
That left behind a bitter man who wondered what went wrong.
His anger turned to hatred as the years went marching on,
Then hate turned to indifference-then even that was gone.
Now, sitting in the back booth with his head slumped to his chest,
A previous leader of our current generation rests.
They enter through the arches in the early morning light.
He opens up the doors for them, smiles vaguely, says goodnight
Then shuffles down the sidewalk of a lonely, one-way street,
Arrives at home and goes to be - the cycle is complete.
