Critical Mass

Where have all the cheerleaders gone
Men and women of yesterday’s dawn?
Who slaved and bled to make us great
Who believed in something not fashionable of late

Hope

They are dead
Or they fled
Or they just let it all run out, like an astronaut who lost his tether, 
Floating gently in the black expanse

Today,
Everyone’s a critic
Everyone’s a sharp
Nitpick

Finding fault in others’ work
Lamenting always
And comforted only by the sounds of their own
Crying, complaining and carrying on

I’ll sign your petition
After I hit you in the mouth
Look away, you reformer
Of nothing. That’s what I always do

Seasoned liars, we are
Always looking for,
And finding comfortable ways
To evade our true greatness

Belief is positively
The only way to go forward
To seize the day
And pave the way

And now we are floating
In a big melting pot
Of fantastically unique
Little people

And the sum of our parts
Stands a chance to reckon
For a moment in time
The audacity of Hope