Bruised Youth


United States
33° 34' 16.2048" N, 80° 52' 35.4756" W

I am a lost child
Fighting for a lost cause
Of that lost generation
My people are often misunderstood
My people are often looked over
My people are lost
At least that’s how we’re described
Always the timeless battle
Between the old and young
I am the product of my youth
But couldn’t I say the same for you
So is your psyche, the product I grow into
Youth is not so much wasted on the young
We are more than dreamers and believers
We are healers and world leaders
We are more than walking Maury cases
We are lawyers carrying briefcases
Musicians carrying guitars
Marketing majors carrying t shirt designs
We are more than mindless drones bobbing our heads to bulging headphones
We are deep thinkers
Mind readers
In our unappreciated adolescent we are wiser than we appear
Complete more in less time
Procrastination we have mastered
Completing more before 8am than most people do all day
We use our words of rhythm and rhyme
Creating texts, tweets, status updates, blogs
Always writing, always thinking, always typing
Putting out thoughts to pin to the net sharing for all the worlds’ response
Hoping for a like, retweet, reblog, repost, comment, perhaps
Most verbal of a people I know behind a screen we let our thoughts flow
In a world where information is so accessible we are often starved for true knowledge
So where does that leave my people
Still we are lost?
Often misunderstood and unappreciated often disappointed and under negotiated
Taxed without representation
Yet still we press on
Perseus the grind
Chase paper
We free our soul
Through our own creativity
Through which we use to both line our pockets and attempt to free our people
So quit judging us as if you yourselves
We’re of mere adolescent youth
We are not completely lost
But found
Perhaps lost to you
But found among each other
Found within ourselves


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