Those folks
They cry about forgotten love
As though it's a thing of yesterday
We all snicker at their naiveté
For it is known their love cares little
So cry on, little poet, cry your little heart out
But you achieve nothing

Those folks
They weep as though they're wounded
Yelling wolf about some depression
What's got you down? Some advice
Maybe stop taking yourself so seriously
Poems about how hard it is from noblemen
You've never seen the Tysa overflow

Those folks
Crying over your mother like a child
So what if she is dead?
Shouting to the rest of us like some imbecile
Crazed upon the perch of suicide
When it is just a woman who birthed you
Why, mine didn't even love me

Those folks
Singing odes to addiction
Be it hiding behind drugs or alcohol
Snubbing your face with powder
Locking yourselves in your room
Suspended bodies of privilege
Crying about hardship

Those folks
Who have never been attacked by their own mind
Assaulted by their trusted
Tricked by those they loved
Who've never seen a man take his life
Or heard someone get shot
And think they've been through it all

Those folks
Who have never heard the true songs
The real notes of reality pass them by
Hide from the world all you want
But those prophets were once right
And if you had listened you might know
But you just assumed you're as smart

You folks
With your upper-class *****
Your cliques of conceit and deceit
Those godforsaken silver windows
You've never seen it rain like it does
You've never seen the fire in the forest
So quiet down, you good-for-nothing *******.