Seeping through the pores in their suffocated skin,
it whirls and it whimpers in the whipping wind.
It flows through the veins of the teens,
it echoes in their unbound screams,
the angst that they feel is nothing to go unseen.

They wield a weapon more powerful than their fist,
but they still can't stop the urge of cutting their wrists.
Their minds are as strong as their bones,
which hold up their hearts broken home,
they are stronger than all the stick and stones.

I don't believe in a lot of things,
but I believe in this generation.
We're teens with open hearts,
and open minds.