Like wild flowers in a wild fire,
These burns we are subject to hang us higher
Than any words we take from eachother, it's the ridicule, the mockery, from this age's big brother.
He says our generation is mindless,
But it's society which binds us
To these stereotypes, these profiles, that push us further into exile.
And the ones who protect us, the parents, the hosts
Are the breeders of evils that harm us the most.
What evils you say? No, not in that way.
No picture book monster from under the bed,
It's the sickness that swims in the back of our heads.
Not merely a fever, or ache of a tooth,
An epidemic of sadness is plaguing our youth.
Now, the generation above, they really do care..
But they fail to relate and it makes us feel bare.
No we aren't angry, what we feel isn't hate.
It's the image of us that you tend to create.
We are believers, lovers, artists with dreams,
But you see us as rebels trapped in phone screens.
So you wonder why we have no fear to die? You witness us struggle, you witness us cry.
Instead of "how are you? can I help in some way?"
It's "snap out of it, you're fine, I know you're okay."
So why so surprised when we're dropping like flies?
You say it's not that bad, but it is in our eyes.
Pity isn't needed. It's credit we seek. Just tell us you're proud and we won't be so meek..
I have a voice, she has a voice, he even speaks too.
Yeah we are individuals, but that's probably news to you..
Because now were just numbers plugged into the grid
As much as we try, we cannot get rid
Of these titles, these brands - the "mindless" generation.
Before it's too late, please stop the degradation.
We used to be wild flowers, now we just count the hours
Down to when we may at last be alone.
When we sit in our rooms, sometimes we think,
We don't actually live on our phones.
We are believers, lovers, artists with dreams
But you don't speak our language, you can't hear the screams
For answers and reasons behind you and me
We aren't the delinquents you think us to be.
But our petals are falling, our fires grow dim.
We make these bold statements, going out on a limb.
Since when did self-harm and anxiety start trending?
I hadn't even noticed my childhood ending..
You say we're just kids, but then so were you,
So why act surprised when you see what we do?
We may not be equals but we ARE the sequel, to your life and our futures despite all the evils.
What a shame to leave by suicide note. I wonder what they'll think when they read what we wrote.
This is how wildflowers say goodbye, not with a cry, but with a whimper.
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 9:42 PM UTC
I've heard of a time, I know of a place
That's up in the clouds between Earth and space
Where no one regards our color of face
But instead recognizes the Human race
What happened to thank you, excuse me and please?
Manners are ancient, sayings like these
Are gone and forgotten, and with them the ease
Kindness is false, facaded by tease
Our forests have burned, our oceans they bleed,
Children are crying, their mothers can't feed
Their mouths that gape, eyes glisten with need
Was all of this worth the envy and greed?
And all we see matters is which side we claim
Republican, Liberal, but it's all the same
To hell with the politics, **** the whole scene
Behind all our leaders is a fine silver screen
Governments an act, a Broadway slob.
It's a business, a living, an inside job.
What do you expect of the industry of suits?
Did you really think they'd put on work boots?
They work "for the people", or that's what they say
But I don't recall wanting it this way.
Our forests are charred, our oceans boil red
What once was endangered, is gone
Dead.
The children still cry, did you hear what they said?
No. Not over the screams of the dead
Our founding fathers, they toss in their grave
Is this the result after all that they gave?
This land of liberty, the free and the blessed,
Is now just a checkerboard of wealthy and oppressed
I've heard of a place, that's under our feet
where the cauldrons they bubble with hate and deceit
And the caverns they sing with fear and regret
Is this the demise that our parents all met?
For conforming, submitting and being the sheep,
for following our shepherd and falling asleep?
Well, now we've led our lambs to slaughter
Our fate is left to the sons and daughters
Who are dumb enough to dream and to love,
That know all the world needs is a push and a shove
It's up to us, to you and to me
To see oceans rage wild and forests grow free
To calm crying children and soothe all their woes,
We will be doubted, but that's how it goes
Recovery's hard, no question about it
But I won't be one to watch and to sit
Down while humanity goes up in flames,
Let's do something so they remember our names
So before it's too late, you have to decide
It's not about choosing a team or a side,
We were the children that hollered and cried,
But we can be something long after we've died
Instead we can leave profound legacies
That enable the beauty of forests and seas
We just have to see beyond colors and creed,
that theres really no difference between you and me.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC