Indictment.

☭ KL0WИ.G0V Ⓐ

Gentlemen up high so short

Members of the highest court

I stand before you beyond reason,

Politically confused

Economically abused

And accused of treason,

Too young for you to feel politically comfortable to abort intellectually

Too old for those who economically pull your strings to try to court sexually

….

Fuck you.

This is the voice of the youth

Still asking what is truth.

We are really out here

Asking you fascists for so little

It’s become so very clear

There is goddamn no middle.

All we get is shrugs.

No, I can’t live another day with these mindless lying thugs.

Human beings dying from drugs —

It’s clear you don’t give a fuck about them.

But you’ve got these cosplay Nazis

Walking through our street,

Jackboots on their feet,

Kidnapping people who can’t afford to eat

And it’s clear you don’t give a fuck about them.

You say it’s law.

You say it’s order.

Just protecting the border.

You say it’s necessary pain.

You say it’s market strain.

That in all this bloodshed we all have something gain.

There’s no time left for me to maintain

Still broke.

Still watching our elected choke.

We know they don’t give a fuck about us.

Youth?

maybe that’s the lie

A lie you supply

Used to separate us existentially from our own rage

Excused revolutionary to castrate as development of an arrested stage

How can we be this angry? You ask me

But with just a few words, you think you can demask me

My intentions, my fear

you think you laid clear

But frankly, my dear, you ain’t even getting fucking close

You reduce and produce

A diagnosis to give us a dose of

Write us off as explosive.

You say us punks are socially corrosive.

All this pain

Why even ask me why I am going insane

Do you even fucking care?

Or is “youth” just the cage

You build around rage?

At this point I can’t even weather the weather,

Can’t draw the bridge in the way

To get the words together

The right way to say what I want to say

As our American way gets splintered and torn further

And the more that I wake up

The more that I feel that might be okay —

…okay.

Because I don’t trust y’all anyway.

You fucks don’t give a fuck about us anyway.

You say we’ll grow out of dissent.

You say we’ll learn to consent.

You say we’ll calm down

once we’re properly spent.

We are…

Named.

Framed.

Blamed.

Tamed.

Contained.

Explained.

Maintained.

Yet your comfort

not yet sustained.