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Right now life seems bleak.
Violence has once again swept o'er the streets.
Murder has ignited a thousand passions
But, in this crusade for justice, we've lost our solutions,
And replaced them with delusions.
Cries have mounted into roars.
The outrage of protesters:
The agony of grieving families,
The powerful voices of common folk and celebrities,
The roaring has reverberated across the country
Deafening all who hear,
Shocking the unaware.
This invited more conversation between all persons:
Demanding reformation
Calling for police to be banned
And more justice throughout the land.
But, many fail to grasp the master's true plan.
Politicians face off across the battlefield,
Neither army desiring to yield,
Because this war rages o'er our past, between the present and future
And no one has all the right answers.
This exam's been re-written after past attempts,
No child nor adult can receive and exempt,
So this nation stares at itself and this test with bitter contempt.
Influence and strength are burned into the tablets of the 21-century creed.
What our forefathers lauded as truth is a false belief;
"We're enlightened and need no guiding force
We're flawed but, perfect in ev'ry choice."
We're bombarded by the opinions of public voices.
"Change what you dislike" is prescribed to the masses,
We've taken it and now live with the consequences
It's every person for themselves: fight or flee
What was paid in blood, torn down and rebuilt to stay "free"
It's becoming gray, and confusing to know what "Truths" to believe.
Living is becoming a war against life itself.
Religion, race, gender, party, they sit on the armory shelf.
Trapped in warzone's beset by weapons of man and mind tricks
Denial, drugs, and alcohol are popular fixes.
We've developed cynical, pragmatic mindsets and destructive behaviors
Stoking the fires of passion is what we believe will be our savior.
We're kids who've found there's a dimming light at the end
Social media and our halls are a testament in red,
Of why most of us are dead.
Right now life is bleak and ashen
It's filled with shape-shifting madmen,
It's brimming with self-hatred and disgust
The Sword of Damocles isn't covered with rust.
Whoever says otherwise was raised by a blind hermit
Our state's been compromised by searching for "City on a Hill" perfect.
I can only wonder if future generations will think it was worth it.