The 60s hipsters all dressed alike, talked alike, thought alike and smelled alike, all in the belief that by dressing alike and acting alike they exhibited their contempt for conformity. You still see 60s hipsters in the malls, gray ponytails below the shoulders, all dressed in the hipster uniform, still believing they are marching together for a better world.

The ranks aligned, they marched as one
The hipster Legionnaires
Their bronze helms gleaming in the sun
Unmindful of the stares
That greeted them from lesser folk
Who smiled and shook their heads
And snickered at the garish joke
That was the Legion threads
The uniforms were patched and torn
As if they had much wear
As if they often had been worn
And changed to suit the air
That wafted as the gentle breeze
From what is hip to not
Changing color with such ease
To match what’s newly hot
The hipster legion, ranks maintained
Marched briskly to a prize
So changeable yet still contained
True beauty in their eyes