We try to make our in a world that doesn't want us to succeed. Cramming food down our throat off the plates of those in need. Keeping safety under lock and key for those who buy a password and blaming those who lie in cradles while cursing the blind for the unsightly.
We attempt to carve a space in a burning burning walled up planet. As we try to hide ourselves in our prison's darkened place. If we are ridiculed to know nothing it's because we've heard it all. We're raped right from the womb and the empty babe gets the blaming.
We scream at the empty void mocked for vanquishing the earth. We fear the sun and shun the night so we live beneath the greenhouse light. There is no room for us upon the land, but there's a torrent on the sea. How dare our need to breathe when there are profits to be planned.
It is not our fathers who bear the load. It falls on them to commit the sin and smear the blood upon our faces and choked our mouths and tongues are slowed. We may not fight our battles. Only killing for their wars, That their father bequeathed to them known only through their bedtime tales.
We're not humans anymore simply a convenient target. We're just the Generation Next. The Generation Now-At-War