naïveté

and so the flick'ring of the screen
controls the every movement, sound
that comes from kids: unsung, unseen
yes, even as they "get around"

and alcohol, it plays a role
the end's not in sight, i'm afraid
with "virtued" sluts and drunks extolled
it's not just parents, e'en the paid
continue to look blindly past
atrocities before their eyes
and the whole world spins all too fast;
a perfect student's caught in lies

no longer can minorities
be defined by race, sex, or creed
but rather what social disease
they partake in, what drugs they need

and shock neither can now exist
at actions, wild, unthought-out
and still no reason to desist:
no messages negate that route

where once the stats were 1 in 3
by now? you know how numbers climb
they're 9 in 10 if we're lucky
having themselves a good old time

the only thing that's changed in years
is how these misinformed teens hide
you, see, once they'd collapse in tears
but now they're still strong in school pride
yes, now they know how juggling's done
they go home, do their work, then fuck
or smoke a joint because they won
their soccer games just by good luck
cuz sure as hell, it wasn't fitness
not with all the shit they do
and with this, here, i do bear witness
with a sense of deja vû
for every face i see each day
the hallway's clogged with clones, it seems
their every vapid stare's the same
and their transgressions would fill reams

so as one of the silent few,
one of the poets who is clean
who doesn't drink, do drugs, or screw,
i beg of you, heed what i've gleaned

please don't become of that ripped cloth
and don't go on that rotted bridge
far better: be guilty of sloth
and spend your days before the fridge
it matters not what you pursue
as long as you don't go that way
please do yourself a favor, too
it's not just me who'll win today

just save yourself, don't follow suit
it's not cool when your friend OD's
and next time that corpse will be you
unless you stay away from these:
the sluts, the stoners, and the drunks
the violent, stupid, useless bunch
and while they'll claim this all is bunk
their lives are trash: they fuck at lunch.