Damaged Youth:
Did you see the faces in the mist?
The Troubles of the World reflected in their dull, black, eyes?
They are the impressionable, the scared;
The manipulated, the abused;
They are youth.
They are ignored, stepped on;
Downtrodden by those above them.
Discrimination follows in their wake,
Labels they cannot ignore,
And cannot cast aside.
Lazy, violent, angry, loud.
Thieves, thugs, stupid.
They don't understand what's going on.
They're too young,
Too inexperienced.
But you are wrong, we do understand,
And we know we are the future.
We will be your futures.
We will save you, or destroy you;
And clean up your mistakes.
But we will not!
We defy you cruel oppressors.
We're done being held down,
By the ignorance of our forebears.
Today, we make a stand!
We'll make our stand against your bullshit!
We'll fight against the useless dogma,
Of Countless generations of
Faceless bastards
And stupid dictators!
We'll march as a unit.
Singing our Freedom!
Laughing at your fear
At our sudden Liberation
We'll burn down you establishment!
Tear you off your high pedestals!
We'll destroy all you hold dear,
And We'll show you what is right.
So now who is powerful?
A decaying corpse, decrepit and rotting,
Relics of eras past.
Or the Youth, who hold all of the power,
The fate of the Future, the past,
The lives of your wretched existence.
So we wait, we bide, we store up our hate.
Until eventually we break.
And on that day, you shall fall.
But until that day, feel secure in your authority.
Feel safe behind your imaginary wisdom.
You grey-faced, useless, fuck.
Bryant Pompu