Artist's Rendition

To be honest, I am just plain bored With pseudo-hip-hop poetry Designed to better strike a chord With young and restless folks like me. “A protest song, a feral scream!” A whine, a whimper – a squeak? How can one achieve a dream With passions hollow, ringing weak Through halls of colleges designed To foster creativity? A practice mostly now maligned, “it lacks employability.” Well I’m tired of hip-hop, Tired of couplets, Tired of rhyming, Tired of “fuck it” Attitudes and platitudes completely bereft Of their soul and spirit, and all that’s left Is this ridiculous army of leftist and libertarian People railing against the status quo, Baristas and librarians, As if what we say matters though We can’t seem to influence a single decision, Our words and signatures met with derision, And illegal warfare carried out with disturbingly little opposition. This is not an evaluation, it’s just an artist’s rendition Of the face of a movement that’s lost all of its vision.