The Dark Path From Youth Poem by Alexander Johnson

slowly trudging towards an end,
release from our purgatory,
we are but grubby decaying leaves,
at the ends of our family tree,
to fall and decay back to the earth,
no heroics left for me,
we have no war, no great escape, no struggle to be free.
frustration courses through our hearts,
forgotten in all but name,
we get pushed around and sacrificed,
just pawns in a wider game.
kill, war, blood and loss,
only in the virtual life we lead,
where brutal acts are carried out,
where fear and anger breed.
There is no truth, no inhibition, no tools for our gain,
Just death, guns and fantasy, and a power button for our pain.
A vicious path of ignorance,
Fear and envy nourished inside,
Deeply scarred, wholly judged,
With no prejudice put to one side,
We are what you made us, we are what you think,
We are moody, feral, dangerous...
everything and the kitchen sink!
We are you and you are us,
we hold a mirror to your fear,
We are what you'll be, in years to come,
reflecting back your sneer.
Your on borrowed time, you are our slaves,
of that you can be sure,
In years to come you'll rely on us,
just as we relied on you before.
So know by then what we know now,
a forgotten youth are we,
But you'll get old and tired and die,
and forget about you, will we....