Don't be alarmed,

I will let this wash over you,

Like quiet clouds,

Before a hurricane,


I am staring at a billboard,

Imagining how much better my life would be if it burned to the ground,

Taking with it all the other careless useless signs that beg for money like homeless people,


I hate that I'm angry today,

I hate that I'll still be angry tomorrow,

I'm too young,

Too naive too restless,

Unaware that I can't change,

That I won't get what I want,

That my heart too can be cruel,


Everyday I see crumbling houses where nuclear families must've opened presents,

Rescued their first dog,

Bought their new American car,

Those ghosts,

How they welcome the weeds and mice,

Inviting the water that slithers in during the rain,

All seeking solice from the bitterness of the city,


The world is not like the textbooks or,

The stories my mother would read me before bed,

My innocent eyes glowing with intrigue,

The world is like the strips of paper littered with special offers,

Dwelling in every mailbox, webpage, street corner,

Meaningless, soulless, greedy

Like this damn billboard,

I want my own advertisment,

It will read; "throw this away, fall in love, go somewhere new, repeat"


I'm sick of our roads,

This vast network of pavement,

That spreads everywhere,

But only takes us to the same places,

I want off the carousel,

The endlessness of routine,

I long to break free from the grasp of,

the hands that hold the elevator,

For the select few,

We lunatics will take the stairs,

We'll douse every white wall in blood red,

Engrave our shameful names into each step,

Screaming our battle cries,

We will see you at the top,

The ones you tried to change,

The ones you tried to bury,

The ones who don't know what's good for them,

You may fancy us mad,

But actually we're quite happy,

Adversity our white sand,

Revolution our calm waters.


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