Nothing

To the young and disillusioned,
the lied to and hurt,
but too apathetic
to rise from the dirt:

To my brothers and sisters,
every one of them strangers who
I know I should love but
so far only rage at:

Did you really think that 'nothing' was the most you could do?
Did you think that when they told you what you were, it was true?
I'm sorry. I should have tried to wake you up.
I'm sorry, but you're drinking from an empty cup.

To anyone who bought hope,
To anyone who cries Peace
from cafes and keyboards
but never from the streets:

And to anyone too stupid with happiness,
too fat with their confidence,
too proud of a nation teaching war to our innocents
to make use of your common sense:

And to the millions who are just like me,
with eyes wide open and a mind to see,
frozen and silent and choking on censure,
too scared to give the boat a rock, to start an adventure:

Do you really think that 'nothing' is the most you can do?
Do you think that when they tell you what you are, that it's true?
Or are you here, awake, aware, listening?
Pissed, crouched and silent, dangerous, waiting?
Rise up! Give voice! Let me know that you hear me!

And to you millionaire politicos
Who smile and lie,
Who write the laws that point the guns
and send our young men to die:

And you chubby smiling bastards
Who buy our best interests,
who fleece the flock and sell the stock
and shit what we ingest:

Do you really think that 'nothing' is the most that we'll do?
Do you think that when you tell us what we are, that it's true?

Fuck you.