Kids, What Do They Know?

Sweaty, sick days on black death
The sounds of mad clowns calling
Shaved ice, ice cream dude, you wanted it
The screaming of missed opportunities

     For the record, destruction of psyche
And the lost innocence, brought up to
     Kill the last bits of childhood
Reborn into slavery of the green

No wonder you want to kick the can
  Ancient of games to explore when they dig
Library of webs, the shape of the mindset
  Trapped in screens of emptiness