They say to us,
"This generation knows nothing,
they're only children,
what do they know?"
But they don't know the battles we've fought,
the fear we faced,
the weights on our shoulders.
They look at us,
"Maturing so quickly,
why aren't they enjoying their youth?"
As they also yell at us to grow up,
pile their regrets onto us
and make us live out their dreams.
They sneer at us,
just foolish children
thinking they know love,
writing all this poetry
when they've never even experienced hurt."
They don't realize that there's no minimum age for love.
we've cried rivers before
That maybe, our hearts are still
We're not foolish children,
but the future that they never want to accept,
and will continue to shame
for the rest of our lives.