Our Time...

You say that I can do it
But then that I can't
You push me forward
But then pull me back again


You're supposed to fill me with hope
Are you not?
You're supposed to be there for me
Are you not?

Oh, right, I forgot
Your job is to teach...
Not Fulfill

I sit there and listen
I gain no advice
I sit there with my hand raised
My name is never called nor noticed

I go to an arts school
Yet not allowed to use my voice
I go to a school where expression is free
Yet we pay with our style being taken

Am I not an artist?
Am I not someone with a plan?
Am I not someone with a voice?
Am I not someone with a dream?
Am I not a person?

Our voice
Our style
Our talent
Our dreams

All oppressed

Out time
Our money
Our wishes

All taken

They say our generation...
Is a generation of change

Our voices...?
Never heard
Our style...?
Our talent...?
Never seen
Our dreams...?
Shut down

Our time...
Our money...
Our wishes...
Become no more than a star in the sky

Give us what we need
And you'll get obedience
Give us what the world needs
And you'll get an army


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741