In Twenty Years From Now

In twenty years from now,
I hope I’ll still be there disrupting
comfort and fighting tyranny.
This weight on my chest,
is it a blooming cancer?
I’d ask the petroleum industry,
but they’re too busy smashing trees.
I don’t want to live for a man-made institution,
my choices are important, my choices are real.
I don’t want to die because of man’s stupidity.
As air is vital it’s toxic-ness is real.
I’m not a tool for your killing machine.
I’ll never shut up,
I’ll never give up on all my friends.
My sister is not a tool for your raping machine
She’ll never shut up she’ll never give up on all her friends.