You look at me and see a failure. With no other words to describe. A shot face with glossy eyes, dirty clothes yet in repose throughout this stressful day. You look at me from below your nose, and some how you know that you are greater than I. I reek of roach clips and incense sticks and laugh when I’m alone. You look at me so angrily and blame me for our society, the state of things for the underage were brought on by ‘my kind’. The hippies, the burnouts, the pot heads, the dropouts. WE are your cop outs. We are a generation taught to ‘just say no’ by our parents who lived in the decade of blow. You look at me? Well I look at you. You feed the machines because they keep you at ease when you’re too scared to think for your own. You can’t atone for your actions so your immediate reaction is to find a scapegoat and slit its throat. We are institutionalized, immobilized, and downsized in the eyes of our fellows and peers for thinking for ourselves. We are peace seekers thrown into war were they use violence to keep us silenced, we are a people kept under control. I refuse to be accounted for and spoken for. I’ll keep fighting for liberation, to free our brothers and sisters from their prison cells and blow clouds of truth and unity into the faces of authority. You look me and think that you see me…
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