I walk into the crowded, well-lit room,

Where there are not one but two buffoons,

And a thousand other generic sheep,

To whom I have the desire to speak.

I take out my scissors to cut through the tension,

So I can face the dozen cameras and wave my arms for attention.

Millions of eyes are on me now so I say,

Do you really want to be mocked this way?

Is this truly the best we can do?

Are they who we want our kids to look up to?

You can give them a chance and that’s okay,

Just make sure they don’t lead us astray.

Because take it from me I’m from the future,

And we have quite a few wounds in need of a suture.