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We are the restless generation.
We roam the streets, calling for rights and dignity
e shift at our desks as we stare out the window
anywhere but here
our minds are flying above the clouds
hot tires running over asphalt
not content with anything
living situations,
education,
careers,
safety,
rights,
life,
and so we run and run and scream.
To change. To forget. To escape.
We weave flowers in our hair, a new breed of hippie
a new breed of wanderer.
We are ill-content and we will always roam
until this world is fit for us to settle down.
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