This generation is hurt it needs some peace.
It’s burning in fires set by their own deeds
But not all burning, some are twisting in their beds every night as if it’s their grave. their throats dry and mind tired yet no sleep.
They have taken turns they thought were right, using their free will at points which other obliged.
They cry in hopes of an understanding but hide their insides as if their mind were a closet so no one could drop a tear of pity.
This generation is broken, it needs some sleep.
Their hair may look shiny but eyes dead as they seem.The bags underneath as heavy as the one they hold in their hand filled with tissues that they might need.
They’ve become hypocrites in ways they don’t even know but the world always seems wrong even when it’s them making it bleed.
They are still sensitive and once were sweet, now its just sorrows and anger they wish would just leave.
They want to bleed heavy pain and scream loud to make the mountains shake, mountains of people who do not care.they want to die in hopes to end all of them while its just a part of them thats killing them.
This generation is hoping, it’s hoping for some peace.
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