We the Vampires

Was then a hopeful brat
Was an optimist
Thought we’d all blossom perfectly
My optimism fed into this hard
becoming indolent

And so I spiral
Inward a mile
And slowly reveal
A tragic autophile

I unknowingly carry “Americas” bags
A privileged past, I’m it’s successor    
Demographics still in rags
Ghostly Vampires, their oppressors

It’s no wonder I feel this way
My demographic so insolent
It was then as it is today
And so I hate that I’m indolent