We wrote stories in the form of gospel,
And convinced them all to breathe it in like the truth,
And when they grew drunk on the fumes of all the lies,
We condemned them for it.
We inspired a world of almost truths,
And we spat in the face of our parents,
And then we went out of our way to create ourselves as immortals,
So that we could never be hurt by them.
We forged our identities from stolen aliases of our own generation,
From those who fell for our lies and dropped their armour on the floors of our bedrooms,
Along with their clothes.
And we recreated our faces in their image,
So that we could one day be whole.
We wrote a bible of adolescent dreams,
And sold it as a biography of the world.
And God,
Are we only the by-products of our parents?
Or of the DNA in our veins?
Or are we our own mistakes?
We grew up in a world of pollution and politics,
Of war and prejudice,
Of lies and peace;
And yet no one asked us why we decided so young that we were lost causes,
No one ever apologised for leaving this mess of a world for us to clean up.
The weight of the generations weighs heavy on our shoulders,
And when we crumbled under their weight they blamed us for our inability to carry them,
Though they never asked if we would,
Carry them that is.

And they talk to us about the 'me' generation,
As if there had been no precedence for why we are,
No catalyst for our self-destruction,
Well here it is,
We are fragile, shallow, anxious, creatures.
We stood by as terror, death, and loss plagued our television screens.
We stood watch as our parents fought,
And our sisters were *****,
And our brother's got shipped to a world of gunpowder and blood.
We stood by as the economy collapsed,
And left our mother's crying over the phone,
And our father's with bruised knuckles,
And so we became afraid,
Not ignorant.
And we crave the attention of those who claim unconditional love,
Because if they can't love us,
Then how are we supposed to love ourselves?
We aspire to look like figures on the front of magazines,
Because we're taught that we're only loved if we can live up to the standards fabricated,
They claim us to be entitled and narcissistic,
But really we're afraid that no one else will love us,
So we act like we don't need them too,
That we're stronger than we are,
That we just don't care.
When in reality we care too much,
We fear too much.
We are overwhelmed by the demand we are given to lead our own lives,
And yet somehow we are to give up control.
We're the ones with the power one day,
We’ll be your nurses and your doctors,
Your lawyers and your police,
And we are terrified.
No one ever taught us how to bear the weight of our roles,
No one ever tells us that it's okay to not be okay,
To be children until we no longer have to,
To hold on to our innocence.
No one ever told us that we could follow our dreams,
But to follow yours.

You have high expectations,
And then condemn us when we fail them.
Never have I ever ran through the streets,
With blood coated hands,
Or stayed out too late,
With boys I don't know,
Breath saturated with alcohol.
Never have I ever ran away from the responsibility you gave me when you left us,
Never have I ever tried to disappoint you,
But you have never seen me as me,
You’ve have always seen me as a we.
The we being the us portrayed on the news,
The ones who protest for what we believe in,
The ones who set things on fire and demand equal rights,
The ones who are running wild demanding attention for the things we care about,
In the only way we know how.
We're screaming in the streets for someone to listen,
To care.
We mutilate our bodies,
And we drink too much too forget,
And that's all you see.
You don't see the pain,
You don't see the heartbreak,
You don't see us crumbling beneath the weight of your expectations,
Just because you had to,
Once.

We are the stolen generation,
The lost generation,
We are all those who came before us,
And we are the ones,
Who bury your secrets,
Who see and hear more than you could ever imagine,
We are intelligent,
And cunning,
And this makes us afraid that one day we will be just like you.

But it's ok,
We’re the angels of the apocalypse,
We are the harbingers of the end,
And maybe this time,
We’ll get it all right,
We’ll rewrite history,
We’ll start all over again.

{M.M}