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Never Given Thanks
The poetry of the soul is revived from youth.
The last of our innocence?
Taken and abused.
We are not the critics,
we are the believers and the saints.
We are pushed around.
We are never given thanks.
We are soul survivors, of the strict,
of the past.
We are the passion
of every forbidden task.
They take us for granted,
push beliefs on us.
They say we are evil,
then ask us for our trust.
We all come from insanity,
and others de-rive from pain.
Our thoughts are irrelivent.
We are full of pain.
We are the next generation.
we do not need your thanks.
We have all forgotten who we are...
at least thats what you think.
