Every September 11th I can't help to remember how times have changed. I wish I could say that things are changing for the better in this wicked world but that is not the case. And the world will get even worse. A high school kid wrote this poem.
The Paradox of our times
Is that we have taller buildings, but shorter tempers
Wider freeways but narrower viewpoints
We spend more, but we have less
We have bigger houses, but smaller families
More conveniences, but less time
We have more agrees, but less sense.
More knowledge, but less judgment
More experts, but more problems
More medicines, but less wellness
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values
We talk too much, love too seldom, an hate too often
We have learn how to make a living, but not a life.
We have added years to life, but not life to years.
We've been all the way to the moon and back
but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor.
We have conquered outer space, but not inner peace.
We've cleaned up the air, but polluted our soul.
We've split the atom, but not our prejudice.
We've higher income, but lower morals
We've become long on quantity but short on quality
These are the times of tall me, and short character;
Steep profits, and shallow relationships.
These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare,
More leisure, but less fun, more kinds of food, but less nutrition.
These are the days of two incomes, but more divorces;
Of fancier houses, but broken homes.
It is a time when there is much in the show window, and nothing in the stockroom.
A time when technology can bring this letter to you,
And a time when you can choose,
Either to make a difference...or just hit, delete.
I hope I don't contribute to the things described in the poem but that somehow I will find a way to make a difference.
Con amor,
Vero
