When I sat down in my English class I heard from my teacher:
“Write a story about the future!”
I know what she expected
Flying cars, robots and super computers?
That isn’t what she got.
The children she teaches don’t see hope in the future, we see restrictions
And she didn’t tell us to write fiction – so we write what we predict
We wrote about strict governments and hopelessness
Because we see the inequality, we know
That everyone, everywhere is in danger
At home, on the streets, in a room of strangers
When did we stop believing in a bright future?
We stopped trying to invent flying cars
And we started obliviously destroying our nation
But I don’t think that’s what my teacher meant,
When she told us: