Dear PC NPCs

I remember singing karaoke
in 2012
we wanted to sing adult songs
though we were young
we understood the concepts
cuz life sucked already
We were our own worst enemy
even as pre-teens
can you believe it?
Yes, we were depressed
in the throes of puberty
isn’t that something?
I loved deeper at 13
than I probably could now
at Whitey’s bar
in Ohio
I sang with Alana
while her mom got drunk
and we got groped
as teens,
And we didn’t care
We did the same
In our free time
It was a different time,
I suppose,
But I
don’t feel any different now
In fact, I feel worse
I remember the bonfires
and actually giving a shit
about something, about anything,
and we burned our homework
on the last day of school
and we had freedom, and love, and muse,
and now it’s all gone
unless these dipshit gits
put down their phones
and save the world like the kid
at the end of the Lorax,
from duck-lips and the emptiness,
and the relentless offended agenda
We touched each other at the edge of the football field,
we crowd-surfed, and bought weed with lunch money
the internet was only good for stealing music
and we kissed when we wanted.
We didn’t need your permission
to speak, or love, or act.
Imagine that
A place where we practiced
the freedom you insist upon
Long before you got here.
What makes you special?
Your skin? Your genitals?
I beg you to
Shock me,
you
generic, entitled,
polarizing
bore.