We tiptoed around our parents
One look was just enough
We obeyed them out of respect
For we thought they knew their stuff
Then in-laws took their place
We slunk around them all
Trying not to fall from grace
Cos we thought a time would come
When we would beat the drum
Our fallacies proved quite hollow
For our dreams we could not follow.
Our children are now grown up
And are now in quite full stride
They are concerned about our health
So by their rules, we must abide
We hesitate to cross or hurt them
Or make them toe the line
As long as they are happy
It’s hunky dory and fine
Somewhere, along the way
Where did we lose our voice…
No one can guess it though
For we still have our studied poise.
To the rude, to the haughty
To the wicked, and the naughty
We are always saying sorry
For we are their timid quarry.
The lockdown has thus proved
That though strong, we are meek
For in the face of calamity
A compromise we do seek.
So our generation although tough
Is not yet quite so rough
We bow and scrape to all
So that we may not fall
That’s why I feel though strong
I am still a little weak
And though I can be bold
I prefer to stay just meek.
Because :
I am a part of the apologetic generation – I bow to both the one that preceded me, and listen carefully to the vocal one that followed me…