Dance softly through the wild stares of the obtuse,
Stagnant in their lacking,
Cracking up and jacking off,
Listen as they scoff,
Mistaking cracks for tracks to tax the backs of those that bare their failures,
The yet to be saviours,
The sons and daughters who’ll become the authors of the failings that they see.
Those cursed lessons that will shape who they will be,
No more a future can I wish to see,
The blood of our generation,
Dripping with desperation at the separation of every nation,
Damnation crying out for salvation.
History will show the choices we’ve played,
Centuries will be weighed under the shadows we’ve made.
Let lessons be borne,
Stuck like the pages of procrastinating ****,
Promises sworn under beguiling scorn,
I shall mourn for the life that I wished had been born.