Broken Promises, Part Two

What is our legacy? Depressed and intoxicated? Teens that the world never consulted, instead taken for granted. We were too young to be scarred, not old enough to have enough to write about, to be sad about. Our lives were pageants compared to the days of old. We have nothing to worry about. Then why do I see so many broken places and crumbling faces? Why do I see families walking tightropes on subpar paychecks? Why do I see the youth being shot down, in conversation and on the streets? Seems to me we don’t have it so good. These kids really aren’t alright. The outlandish is a cry for help. The car crashed hearts need to be held. And the suicide notes? Somebody fucking respond to them please. How many of these kids gotta die, or take out a dozen with them, before we ask what’s wrong?

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