Now this is a generation that was meant to be heard
But it’s like shepherds trade their sticks for whips to beat youth with tongue lashes
We’re a blind herd trying to be led safely to our caskets
Our dreams weigh clouds down to earth
They burst and fill the sky with bright lights of visions just like fireworks
A colourful release of breath to give life to a once dead generation
Choked up in need of the Heimlich
Blown into the winds of desperation
Colours of the aurora borealis setting fire to idle minds
Their fingertips feel alive like an 87 year old woman cured from arthritis
Your bones feel ignited
Ambition is resuscitated
No chance of a reoccurring indictment
spokenvisions 